


Say something, something like you love me

by Azraphele



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Case Fic, FBI Agent Lucifer, M/M, Wordcount: 30.000-50.000, season 5
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-13
Updated: 2017-10-13
Packaged: 2019-01-16 22:15:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 35,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12351621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azraphele/pseuds/Azraphele
Summary: “Well do I get to know or not? Or are your FBI stories too secret?” Sam teases. Nick chuckles along with him, “Who said anything about my skeleton’s being FBI related?”Sam raises his eyebrows.“It’s gotta be something to do with your job, what else could it be?”“You’d be surprised.”Or the fic in which Lucifer's plan upon being released from the cage is to get his vessel to say yes by posing as an FBI agent and crashing a Winchester hunt.





	Say something, something like you love me

**Author's Note:**

> "I had the strangest feeling your world's not all it seems,  
> So tired of misconceiving what else this could've been.  
> I don't even know if I believe everything you're trying to say to me.  
> So open up my eyes, tell me I'm alive  
> This is never gonna go our way  
> if I'm gonna have to guess what's on your mind.
> 
> Well say something, say something,  
> Something like you love me,  
> That you wanna move away from the noise of this place.  
> Well I don't even know if I believe  
> I don't even know if I wanna believe  
> Anything you're trying to say to me."  
> \- Title from the song "Believe" by Mumford and Sons
> 
> Wonderful art for this work can be found here: https://heavenresides.tumblr.com/post/166369591105  
> By the talented heavenresides.tumblr.com  
> The translation for the Russian in this work is italicized.  
> Comments are greatly appreciated.  
> And without further ado... Enjoy:

 

 

     “Come on Jules, we’re almost back to the path!”

      “And how do you know that?”

       Juliana runs her hands through her blonde hair, pulling it up in a high ponytail as she snaps at her boyfriend. She can’t believe that her planned romantic day has been ruined all because her boyfriend had insisted that they go hike a trail to the waterfall rather than head along the river like they had planned. Now they are lost. Oh, and she fell into a ditch a couple hours ago. Just her luck.

      “Neil, I feel gross,” Juliana whines as she struggles to catch up, mud covering her legs and mixing with her sweat. “Jeez, can you slow down? I thought I was the athletic one.” Neil turns around at her request, curly brown hair bouncing with the movement.

     “Babe come on!” He is smiling and Jules is a little annoyed that she is not enjoying the hike like he is. Unfortunately she is the one who gets to feel dirty instead of feeling refreshed from the fresh air and exercise.

     “Maybe if you fell into a ditch you’d be a little less cheery.”

     Neil rolls his eyes but waits for her. When Jules finally rejoins him he kisses her on the forehead.

     “Come on, it should be easier now that we are going downhill,” Neil says.

     “This whole trip is going downhill.”

     “Don’t be such a baby, it’s just mud.”

     Jules is about to retort when she hears a loud crack somewhere to her left. She jumps at the noise and Neil laughs at her. “That’s not funny you dick!”

     Neil jumps left to avoid the water bottle being flung at him. “Hey! That can hurt someone!” Neil chastises jokingly.

    “Yeah, well I sure hope that someone is you,” Juliana threatens lamely. Neil laughs at her and Jules really wants to punch her boyfriend in the face.

    “Oh, come on. Admit that you had a good time today,” Neil is back by her side, nudging her faintly, “that waterfall was pretty sick.”

    “I guess…"

    “And you got me to take all those pictures of you with it. Not every guy is so willing to turn into a photographer for his girlfriend.”

    “Yeah, I do have things to post on Instagram now...” Jules glances at Neil who is giving her a hopeful look. “Okay, yes today was fun but I still need to take a shower, like, now.”

    “We’ll be home soon Jules. Now if we could only find the path…”

    “Too bad there’s no signal.”

     The sun is setting above them and the forest is quickly growing darker and darker as fewer sun rays break through the tall pine trees. They didn’t bring flashlights with them since getting lost wasn’t exactly part of the plan this morning. Truth be told, Juliana is getting worried that they will get stuck out here for the night. CRACK. Jules grabs onto her boyfriend in fear and he yelps.

    “Jesus Christ you scared me! Calm down, I just stepped on a twig,” Neil exclaims.

     Feeling a bit silly at overreacting Jules lets go of her boyfriend’s arm and straightens up.

     “Right, I’m just messing with you.” One look at Neil’s face and she can tell he is not buying it.

     Like a shot, without warning and deafeningly loud, a creaking shutters through the forest from behind them. It echoes through the treetops and sounds a lot like wood being splintered and twisted around. It is such a ghastly noise that it makes Julianna’s heart stop. “Neil, what was that?”

    “Maybe a tree is about to fall, we should get going,” Neil shrugs, but looks slightly unnerved.

     As they pick up their pace silence falls back onto the woods. The couple stumbles into a clearing. Confusion mixed with anxiety settles into Julianna’s chest. On the other side of the clearing stands an old man. His skin is wrinkly and appears to be a sickly pale green. He is covered in layers of nets made out of moss. Leaves and branches stick out from his dirty unruly hair that is the same pale shade as his skin. Both his hair and his beard go down past his knees and he has one hand on a walking stick. Neil grabs Juliana's hand and yells, “Who are you?”

    The old man tilts his head and Juliana could swear his nose looks just like a twig.

   “Я вас всё пытаюсь прогнать но вы никак не уйдете. Глупые дети, сами напросились." ( _I’ve been trying to get you to leave, but you just won’t go away. Stupid children, you asked for this!_ )

    She hears the words but doesn’t understand them. Neil is pushing her behind him and Jules is scared now, the man has such an odd joyous look on his face.

   “Listen man, we don’t speak whatever it is you’re speaking but we don’t want any trouble,” Neil is trying his hardest to not provoke whatever it is this man is planning on doing.

   “Чтобы все знали что это лес лешива!” ( _Everyone will know now that this is my forest!_ )

    Juliana screams as her boyfriend is abruptly snatched away from her. She falls to the ground and watches in horror as roots twist into the air and Neil goes with them. They are wrapping around his legs and arms, Neil is thrashing about and yelling at the top of his lungs. She looks over to the man and covers her mouth as tears spring to her eyes. In shock she watches the little old man morph into something inhuman. His nose really is a twig now. He looks like a living tree without leaves. His whole body is covered in bark and his fingers are replaced by long sticks. His beard and hair turn into twisting branches and his height doubles. He is towering over her and Jules just wants to run away. She turns to start but finds she can’t. Unnaturally strong vines are holding her in place. Neil is still shouting above them and then suddenly he falls to the ground next to his girlfriend.

    “What the fuck is going on?” Neil is trying to untangle the vines wrapped around her, “Jules we need to go!”

    Jules cries out again as Neil is pushed down by the monster who has come up to them. Her boyfriend disappears as roots, vines, and moss cover him from head to toe. Juliana knows she is next as the vegetation grips onto her and starts wrapping itself around her legs. It hurts as the branches cut her arms. “Stop please! Let us go!” She is trying to beg for her life but she knows it is too late as she is trapped inside a coffin of magical roots. She starts to hyperventilate as the leaves surrounding her keep getting in the way of her breathing. Jules chokes on something and as she coughs she just can’t find room to breathe anymore. As she becomes lightheaded Jules thinks this is what corpses must feel like after they start decaying in the earth, overrun by nature. Her heart stutters in a feeble attempt to keep going despite the lack of oxygen. She can hear Neil still hitting the inside of his own trap.

   The forest is quiet aside from sounds of the couple’s weak struggle. As minutes pass a complete silence settles across the land.

   In the dark, two mounds of twisted moss covered graves sit in the clearing.

 

* * *

 

_"MISSING HIKERS’ REMAINS FOUND- STRANGE GRAVES IN WOODS”_

    The headline catches Sam’s eye as he flips through the newspapers piled on the rickety motel desk.

    Pushing his laptop off to the side to spread the newspaper out, Sam can’t help but be a bit relieved that he has finally come across something interesting. All of the useless motel jumping that they have been doing without coming across anything supernatural to kill to pass the time is starting to strain his already frail relationship with Dean. “Dean, I think we have a case.” He quickly skims the article, looking up for Dean’s reply. Dean gets up from the bed he is lounging on and walks to the mini fridge to take out some beer.

   “‘Bout time, what is it?”

   “Two hikers went missing a couple days ago and their bodies were found in the woods completely covered in what looks like graves made out of tree roots.”

   “So?”

    Sam makes a disbelieving face. “Dean, it’s impossible for a tree’s roots to grow fast enough to cover a whole body in two days. The bodies hadn't even started decaying yet.”

    “Yeah, okay, I get it. You’re a nerd, but that doesn’t mean that this is our kinda’ thing. Maybe the plants there are fucking radioactive or something- hell if I know.”

    “Dean, it says that the cause of death is unknown for both victims but they are covered in moss and scratches from branches.”

    “So you’re saying that plants killed them?” Dean asks, raising an eyebrow.

    “Maybe, but either way this doesn’t sound normal. And we can't just keep sitting around doing nothing.” Sam shrugs, hoping that despite the lack of missing brains, hearts, or pituitary glands Dean’s restlessness would win out and he would agree to go to Maine.

    At first, Dean looks like he is about to argue, and Sam knows what this is going to be about. He knows that right now Dean is going to start going off about how yeah, they shouldn't be sitting around doing nothing, they should be fixing the problem that Sam created. They should be ridding the world of the devil who should have started wreaking havoc the second the door of his prison was sprung open. But the thing is- he hasn't.

    Lucifer’s cage has been open for months now, but there have been no plagues of locusts, or freak storms- not even a spike in demon activity. Nothing resembling an apocalypse is happening, and Sam can tell it is freaking Dean out. Despite being somewhat relieved that he is not at fault for humanity's end quite yet, Sam is suspicious about Lucifer’s absence, but at least he’s not on edge like Dean. Dean is stuck to their trademark Winchester thought process of “there's always a calm before the storm”.

    This time however, Dean’s face evens out and he takes a swig from his beer, mumbling something resembling an “alright” and starts to pack up their things.

    Sam lets out a sigh of relief. God knows how much they both need a chance to let off a little steam and think about something other than Sam’s mistakes.

    They check out of the musty motel and head to the car. The Impala blends into the night as they load the few belongings they have into the trunk. Sam rolls his eyes at Dean as he pats the car affectionately before getting in the driver's side. Sam closes the trunk and stumbles through to the passenger side. Sitting down he hears Dean’s keys clink against the wheel. The engine purrs to life.

    “Where are we going?” Dean asks, one hand resting on the back of the seat, as he looks over his shoulder to back out of the motel parking lot.

    “Maine,” Sam yawns and settles in for the ride which he knows will take about two days.

    “Alright,” is all Dean says so Sam decides to get some rest, letting the endless highway ahead of them lull him to sleep.

 

* * *

 

 

     They make it in a day and a half.

     By the time that they arrive at the police station, both wearing suits and with fake credentials in tow, Dean seems happier and Sam is feeling lighter than he has in weeks. Maybe for a bit they could play like everything is normal and Sam could act like he hasn’t accidentally released Satan upon the world.

    “Okay, you ready Sammy?” Dean asks, adjusting his suit collar as he parks the car in front of the station. Sam double checks his jacket pocket for the fake badge and nods, following his brother into the building.

     At the front desk, Dean rings the bell for assistance and a short woman walks out from around the corner wearing a navy shirt with the words “Records Division Personal” embroidered into the right corner of the chest. “Hey folks, how can I help you?” She greets with a cheery smile.

    Sam glances at her name tag and returns the friendly expression, “Hi Stacy, we’re with the FBI and we have some questions regarding the found remains in the woods.”

    “You really agents?” The woman asks as Dean and Sam unfold their badges at the same time. “Huh- well then, your friend is already inside with the Sheriff. I didn't think the FBI would be interested in our little missing hiker case, but that’s none of my business; I know how you folks like to keep these things classified,” Stacy tells them with a wink. “Sheriff’s office is down the hall,” she points and leaves.

    Sam cannot help being a bit surprised that another hunter decided to investigate the same case. But they have worked with other hunters before, so he doesn’t see a problem with it now. In fact, it might be nice to work with someone new. Sam starts down the hallway but Dean grabs him. Sam turns around confused, “Dean what-”

   “We really shouldn’t be mixing with other hunters.”

    “What are you talking about?” Sam is more than a little confused because since when have they had a problem with other hunters?

    “They could be hostile.”

   “What’s that supposed to mean?” he asks incredulously.

   “Sam, listen to me; word travels fast in the hunter community, and Bobby’s said that a lot of ‘em know that you’re to blame for Satan rising,” Dean explains gravely and in a hushed tone.

    Well, good to know both Bobby and Dean blame him. It bothers him, makes him feel unclean again- a silent nod to the demon blood experience, but there's nothing he can do to change what he has done. Sam doesn't even know how to start to fix this. It constantly feels like despite his best efforts nothing is getting him closer to Dean forgiving him his mistakes. Sam looks down, finding himself frustrated with the situation yet again.

    "So what? Hunters are angry with me?”

    “Hey,” Dean raises his hands in a placating way, “All I’m saying is that we have to be careful. Now this guy might be friendly, but we shouldn't take chances. I don’t want to be found dead in a motel room with shotgun bullet holes littering our bodies.”

    Sam mumbles an okay and moves away from Dean towards the Sergeant's office. He hadn’t realized that even other hunters think he is a monster. He mentally files this new information into the same place that holds his regret towards Dean not trusting him, his own anger, and his feelings of not belonging. Sam knows that there isn’t time for any of that. They have a job to do after all. The door to the office is open, and Sam and Dean walk in to see a middle aged woman in a police uniform talking to a man whose back is turned to them.

    Dean starts the usual introductions, but Sam can’t hear him because suddenly bright blue eyes akin to frost are staring at him with such intensity that Sam’s breath is caught. A chill runs down his spine as Sam meets the man’s gaze. The blonde’s eyes narrow, the look piercing straight through to Sam’s soul. Sam feels static in the air, as if lightening is about to strike around them and Sam will have to stand there being drenched by rain and ripped by heavy winds as a storm brews around the man in front of him. Goosebumps erupt on his skin and the hair on the back of his neck stands. Sam feels almost as though he’s under attack as the man takes a step forward, focusing solely on Sam, the smell of ozone and something metallic shifting into place around him. Sam’s mind screams that he is missing something, like his heart shouldn't be racing or his hands shaking just from the amount of presence this man has. He is a bit weak at the knees and a whole lot freaked out because no matter how he tries to deny it to himself, there’s something familiar about all of it. Sam’s world snaps back into place however, as Dean’s elbow lands sharply into his ribs, making him lose eye contact with the stranger.

   He looks back up only to catch the man blink and the effect surrounding him is gone. The room doesn’t feel too small anymore, there is no feeling of immense power or chill of winter. The man is just a man, standing there looking amused as Sam chokes out a confused, “Umm...”

   Dean elbows him again, and Sam quickly fumbles to mirror his brother, pulling out his badge.

   “Sorry, my partner usually isn’t this scatter-brained,” Dean says as he gives Sam an irritated look. Sam rolls his eyes, already bouncing back from the weird experience since Dean clearly had not noticed anything.

   “Uh huh,” the Sheriff nods incredulously, as she glances at their badges, “So what are you two here for?”

   Sam decides to ignore the other hunter in the room for now and regains his composure, “We’re here about the found hikers’ remains.”

   At this the blonde man perks up. “Huh, I thought I was supposed to be working this case on my own.” He didn’t phrase it as a question, but before Sam could answer, he asks another, “Did the Bureau double book us again?”

   Sam turns toward the unknown hunter again, takes in the neat blonde hair, clean shaven face, and dark blue suit… Expensive dark blue suit. It was a little too expensive for another hunter, Sam thinks, and then his eyes widen as he sees the FBI badge attached to the man’s belt, coupled with a special agent plastic tag dangling off the other side. Alarm bells go off in his head. Holy shit, this guy isn’t a hunter. The man moves his hand to rest on his hip, moving his jacket lapel in the process and Sam’s fear is confirmed. There is a holster attached to the belt and Sam can clearly see the Glock nestled in it. Hunters don’t use Glocks. This guy definitely isn’t a hunter, he’s a real fucking FBI agent.

   Next to Sam, Dean lets out a nervous chuckle and Sam knows that means he’s noticed their problem too. “Yeah, they really need to get their shit together upstairs, huh?” Dean laughs uneasily. Dean and Sam share worried glances with one another, communicating to each other that they may be screwed if they mess this up.

   “Well, since you boys are all here for the same thing, you might as well go ahead and ask some questions,” the Sheriff prompts them, looking a bit annoyed that she is being ignored, “Although, there’s really not much of a case here.”

   “What do you mean?” the agent questions.

   “Well, you can’t really prosecute plants- can you?”

   “No I suppose not,” the man answers, wrinkling up his nose in confusion.

   “But don’t you think it’s strange that this happened in the first place?” Sam joins in.

   “What can I say? Here in Maine, the wilderness has a mind of its own.”

   “So you’re saying this has happened before?” Dean asks.

    “No, but we have had hikers get stuck out there, caught in roots unable to get free. They just starve to death- the poor folks.”

   “And that’s considered normal?” Sam asks raising his eyebrows.

   “Listen, when you live surrounded by forest you get pretty used to stupid people getting lost and getting in all kinds of trouble. Our forest rangers have some pretty unbelievable training. They’ve also heard a lot of bullshit stories about those woods.”

   “What stories?” Dean interrupts. 

   “Just ask any folk from around here. It seems like everybody these days has a story about something lurking out there. People keep saying they are getting chased out by something, but nobody has seen anything concrete. Imagination and gossip run wild in a small town like this. Now listen agents, I’m going to be upfront with you, I can give you our case report, the info of the guy who found the bodies, let you talk to the coroner but, and I’m just being frank, we aren’t investigating these deaths. We found the missing hikers and they died from natural occurrences, case closed.”

   “Okay then, how about you give us all the information and we’ll do our thing,” Dean smiles at the Sheriff and she just shrugs her shoulders.

   “Suit yourselves, give me a minute then to get that for you,” she says and walks out of the office.

   “Easier for us to do our jobs then,” Dean glances over to Sam and Sam nods. There is clearly something supernatural up in those woods but Sam can tell that is not what Dean is worried about right now. They are going to have a long talk about how the hell to get out of this situation as soon as they get back in the Impala. Having a real FBI agent investigating a hunt isn’t exactly ideal.

   “Yes, I suppose it will be. And, although I usually prefer to work alone, since we’re all assigned the same case, might as well work together right,” the blonde smiles and something in Sam screams not to trust that smile. The agent reaches out his hand, “I’m Nick by the way."

   “I’m Dean,” Dean shakes Nick’s hand quickly and Nick moves toward Sam. Their hands meet Sam could swear for a split second he feels a rush of power jolt through him but then Nick’s cold hand is already dropping his and he is looking at Sam expectantly.

   “Sam,” he manages to choke out, and god what is wrong with him today? There’s something playful glinting in Nick’s blue eyes and Sam can’t tell if he likes it or not.

   “Pleasure to meet you, Sam,” he smirks and Sam can tell that he is silently laughing at him. Sam is about to say something snarky but is saved from the embarrassment (because at this rate he would have fucked that interaction up too) by the Sheriff walking back into her office and handing him and Nick a file each.

   “You’ll find all the information you need there. Now if you’ll excuse me I have to work on a couple robberies…”

    Outside the station Nick stops Dean and Sam to hand them his card and then bids them adieu. Sam stares at the paper in his hand. A gold FBI logo is imprinted into the left corner and the words _Special Agent Nick Milton_ are printed in large font above all the contact information. Sam sighs and tucks the card away into his pocket as he and Dean clamber into the Impala. Dean is starting the engine to head back to the motel when he turns to Sam.

   “Dude, what are we gonna do about Mr. FBI?”

   Sam really doesn’t know what they can do at this point but play along.“I guess we should just let it be,” he shrugs.

   “What? Are you crazy? The second he finds out we are impersonating FBI agents he will take our asses to jail, and been there done that!”

   “Dean, he doesn’t know now and he won’t find out if we keep it cool.”

   “He’ll find out the second he tries to ask someone from the actual fucking FBI if they know a Agent Angus and Agent Young, and when no-one does he’ll realize that we are imposters named after the lead guitarist of AC/DC!”

   “What do you suggest we do then? Drop the hunt? Kill him? We kind of just need to roll with it here,” Sam reasons as his brother deflates.

   Dean looks unhappy with the conversation because he knows Sam is right so he just turns back to driving mumbling, “I don’t know about you, but as far as I’m concerned I want the Winchesters to stay dead to the FBI.”

   “Believe me so do I.”

    Sam accepts his small win and prays that the decision to go through with this hunt does not come back to bite him in the ass later.

 

* * *

 

     Lucifer is definitely a bit smug that he has such an effect on Sam. The angel tried keeping his powers in check to make them undetectable to humans but Sam had felt even the slight aura surrounding him and gotten nervous. When Lucifer had heard Sam’s heart racing he immediately made the pull on his grace and crammed it inside into as tight of a ball as he could. Honestly, keeping his powers on that tight of a leash hurt but if it meant Sam would not be scared of him than he could do it. Lucifer hopes that his little experiment works and he is able to get close enough to Sam for him to actually listen to his side of the story. His vessel just needs to stop fearing him, after that convincing him to say yes should be simple.

    Lucifer sighs and fluffs out his wings, feathers ruffled by the wind. He is standing at the top of some mountain in Scotland where he had flown as soon as the Winchesters had their backs turned. He had needed to expel some energy. It is a gorgeous day, the sun is bouncing off the fresh snow and a lake glistens in the distance. Here he lets his grace chill the mountain until it starts snowing again. Lucifer looks out at God’s creation and hums. It’s ethereal. Somewhere in the distance, past these rolling mountains are cities filled with people that do not appreciate this handiwork. Lucifer will get to them when the time is right. He stays like that, snowflakes settling on his shoulders and dusting his hair, waiting for the Winchester’s next move. Ten minutes go by and Lucifer lands back in Maine, making his way to the coroner’s office knowing that the brothers are on their way.

    By the time the Winchester’s are walking into the building Lucifer is already talking to the medical examiner. He stops the conversation in favor of waving Sam and Dean over, both of whom look like deer caught in headlights. “They’re with me,” he explains to the girl he is talking to.

   “Hi, I’m Sam,” Sam shakes the girl’s hand and Dean follows. “Well agents if you want to follow me,” she leads the three of them to the back where the examination rooms are. Lucifer spots Sam glancing over to him and winks at him. Sam instantly looks away but Lucifer can hear him cursing in his head and see the faint blush dusting the top of his cheeks and isn’t that cute. Lucifer’s frozen grace warms at the idea that he makes his vessel flustered. This is going to be so much fun.

    The human leading them to the cadavers is trying to make chit-chat with them but Lucifer does not feel like indulging her if he doesn’t need to so he lets Dean answer her questions. He would much rather focus on Sam, so he drops back to be in stride with him and lets Dean and the women walk ahead. Sam notices and politely smiles at him. “So Sam, what brought you to the FBI?” Lucifer could feel Sam’s mind jumping around searching for a lie to tell and he really should not be making Sam’s life any harder than it already is but he can’t help himself.

   Something settles in Sam and his reply is suddenly easy, “I like helping people.”

    Lucifer knows he is talking about hunting now, knows a lot about Sam’s life and Sam himself in ways that Sam cannot even imagine. However, he wants to let Sam go through the process of not only opening himself up but also getting to know Lucifer himself so that he does not feel overwhelmed when he finds out about his destiny. Lucifer nods and says the only thing he could think of that would ring true in some sense, “I like to bring justice.”

   Sam makes a noise of agreement as they enter the lab. On the metal tables there are two bodies.

   “This one here is Juliana Thompson and that one is her boyfriend Neil Herfman,” the medical examiner says, pushing up her red hair into a ponytail and putting on latex gloves. “Both victims were in their 20’s, perfectly good health, died around the same time. Although this is a weird one there are no signs of anything that indicates murder.”

   Lucifer looks at Sam, who looks a bit confused, “these bodies haven’t had an autopsy done?”

   The girl looks a little guilty at that and states “Well, I’m not exactly the coroner….”

   At that Dean steps in. “What do you mean you’re not the coroner?”

   “I’m actually just training here for my nursing program, my mom is the coroner and she does the autopsies usually but she’s on vacation at the moment so I’m standing in for her,” she stampers out, “I was told by the sheriff to not worry about these ones, that since this wasn’t a crime there was no investigation and I didn’t need to try and examine them.”

   “Okay, do you mind if we do it then?” Sam asks softly, being nice to the girl who looked like she was about to cry.

   “Of course not!”

   “Do you want to step out?”

   She nods and leaves after pointing out where the tools for cutting the bodies were. “I can do it,” Lucifer offers.

   “You sure?” Sam asks, raising an eyebrow.

   “It’s no problem,” Lucifer says simply. Posing as a human has led to a lot of interactions he would rather avoid so he’d love to take out his annoyance on a cadaver. He picks up the scalpel and cuts a Y shaped incision into the torso of the male body first. The stomach instantly deflates and Lucifer easily pulls back the skin. The dermis and fat tissue go along with it. He takes a knife and slices the attached muscle as if he’s cleaning the skin off a fish. When the rib cage is exposed Sam hands him large shears and Lucifer takes them to start cutting. The sound of bones breaking fills the room but Lucifer is swift in his actions and quickly finishes. His movements are elegant and Lucifer can see the surprise in Sam’s eyes as he easily removes the frontal ribcage. Lucifer scoops out the excess blood in the intestines with a ladle then starts pulling out the organs and intestines one by one.

   “Dude do you want some gloves,” Dean asks Lucifer as he scoops out the liver with his bare hands.

   “I’m good.” Lucifer smiles at him and Dean looks at him like he grew another head.

   “That’s not very sanitary,” Sam adds, looking a bit disgusted.

   “I’m done anyway, you guys can examine them if you wish,” Lucifer takes out the lungs and plops them on a tray, “my bet is you’ll find cause of death in these bad boys.” As Lucifer pats the pair of lungs Dean and Sam exchange glances.

   “That’s just weird man,” Dean says as he puts on a pair of gloves. Sam moves to cut open the lungs as Lucifer goes to wash his hands off in the sink.

   Lucifer hops up on a table not holding a body and swings his legs, “So Sam, Dean, you two seem familiar, have we met before?”

   “Nope, don’t think so,” Dean pulls at a bit of intestine.

   “Huh, well what year did you graduate the Academy?”

   “We’re actually new agents so we only graduated a year ago,” Sam lies smoothly and Lucifer grins.

   “What division are you from?”

    There is a beat where Sam and Dean are both thinking before Sam speaks up. “Missing Persons.”

   “Interesting, I’m from--”

   Lucifer cuts himself off as Sam makes a noise and then he is looking up at both him and Dean, confusion evident on his face. “The lungs are filled with fluid and leaves…”

   “The plants really did suffocate them?” Dean asks confused.

    Lucifer jumps off his perch and walks around the table with the victim on it. He grabs some tweezers and plunges them into the corpse’s nose pulling out a bunch of leaves, “the nasal cavity is blocked with leaves too. I also noticed the organs are congested and show slight hemorrhaging. He definitely died from suffocation.”

   “Yeah, no signs of foul play my ass,” Dean eloquently states.

   Sam looks at Lucifer and Lucifer holds his gaze because he could see the cogs turning in Sam’s head. Lucifer knows they won’t discuss the case any further with him for now so he decides that it is time for him to go.

   “Well it’s been a pleasure working with you but I have to go report this to my superiors now.”

   Lucifer does not like to lie but this whole posing as an agent is requiring a lot of it. He makes a pact with himself to never lie to Sam after it is time to reveal his identity but for now he needs to move on to the next step of his plan. “You probably don’t need to autopsy the girl, likely you’ll find the same exact stuff you found in him,” Lucifer points to the taken apart body. The metal tables clink together as Lucifer moves them to make room for himself as he walks toward the exit. “Let me know if you find out anything else.”

   “Will do,” Sam pants as he struggles to move his hair out of the way without using his bloody hands.

    Lucifer stops by the door to look back at Dean and Sam shifting through all the blood and guts and smirks. “Pretty good work for fake agents,” he calls out.

    As he turns to leave something falls to the ground. He can hear Sam gasp and Dean curse.

    Lucifer laughs. This really is going to be fun.

 

 

* * *

 

    As soon as the door of the motel room is closed Dean turns around. “We’re fucked.”

    Sam has to agree at this point. “We definitely are.”

    Dean looks like he’s about to work his way up to being hysterical and Sam already feels like he is at that level so it is surprising they both have not started yelling yet.

   “Dude, I don’t want to go to jail again, what if we don’t get out this time? What if when we are locked up Satan decides to come and blow up the world?”

   “Dean, we always get out.” Sam is at least going to try to de-escalate the rising tension in the room.

   “This is great just fucking awesome,” Dean rubs his hands through his hair in frustration, “Having an FBI agent call us out on being fakes while on a hunt, of course this had to happen to us, why would it happen to anyone else.”

   “What are we going to do?”

   “Fuck if I know Sam! But I definitely didn’t need the whole force of the FBI on my ass again.”

   “Are you blaming me? How was I supposed to know that he would figure it out?”

   “I don’t know Sam, it seems pretty fucking predictable to me!”

   “Well then you should have said so from the very beginning.”

   “I tried but you’re so goddamn stubborn.”

   “I am not!”

    They argue back and forth for a good two hours about who it is to blame for their situation and what to do now that Nick knows. Dean suggests just getting the hell out of Maine and hoping Nick can’t track them down if they keep moving, but Sam wins out that argument by saying that they have never left a hunt before finishing the job and they can’t start now.

   It is way past midnight when Dean finally quietly mumbles, “Either way it doesn’t matter anymore Sammy, get ready to be arrested in the morning.”

   A melancholy quiet surrounds them. Sam sits there, thinking about the last resort that they have to fall back on. Sam takes a deep breath. “What if we tell him the truth?”

   Dean looks up at him incredulously. “Dude, are you kidding me? You know how that usually goes, they’ll cart us off to the nearest mental hospital as soon as we start talking about demons and ghosts.”

   “What if we make a deal with him? He’s working this case and we know it’s definitely something supernatural. So what if we bring him in on the hunt? We can prove to him that we aren’t crazy.”

   Dean looks at him for a long moment. “Okay, but you have to call him now before he’s done anything.”

   “Yeah, okay,” Sam quickly agrees, already reaching for his phone and the card that Nick gave them. Dialing the number hurriedly Sam walks over to the opposite side of the room than where Dean is and waits impatiently for the agent to pick up. His call goes to voicemail and Sam really can’t have that right now. He is already nervous about having missed his opportunity to stop the agent contacting authorities. Sam steadies himself and redials. On the third ring Nick picks up, mumbling out a low “Hello” and Sam immediately starts talking.

   “Hey Nick, this is Sam. I really need to—“

   “Sam,” Nick groans out on the other end, “to what do I owe the pleasure.” His speech is slow and raspy and somehow that is making Sam feel certain things that he definitely should not be feeling. Feeling a bit awkward at having woken up the agent Sam quickly tries to make amends.

   “Listen, Nick, sorry for calling so late but I really need you to hear me out--”

   “Sam, I gotta admit you’re attractive and all but I didn’t think we were close enough for a three a.m. booty call yet,” Nick yawns on the other end and Sam can hear the rustle of sheets.

   Sam chokes up a bit because he wasn’t expecting Nick to blatantly flirt with him like that. “What? No! This isn’t a booty call. Nick it’s about the FBI thing, you can’t arrest us.”

   “Sam, I’m not arresting anyone at three a.m. am I?”

   “You just have to hear me out--”

   “What I have to do is get some sleep.”

   “Nick please the truth is--”

   “Save the truth for the morning for fucks sake,” Nick yawns again, recites his address quickly and with a “goodnight” hangs up on Sam without Sam getting a word in.

   Sam sits in the chair for a moment, going through what just happened mentally. He couldn’t tell if Nick was actually flirting or joking.

   “So?” Dean calls from the bathroom where he is brushing his teeth.

   “Uh, he said to come by his place in the morning to talk. Doesn’t seem like he’s told anyone yet.”

   “Ok that’s good, what time?”

   “He didn’t say.”

   “We’ll just go early then, make sure he doesn’t have time to let his FBI buddies know about us.”

   “Sounds like a plan.”

   “This better work Sammy, and if it doesn’t you’re going to be doing all the begging for him to not lock our asses away.” With that Dean plonks down on the bed and goes to sleep.

   Sam sits there a bit longer, still reeling over the fact that he is probably going to have to pull out his best puppy dog eyes tomorrow.

 

* * *

  

    Sam and Dean get to Nick’s apartment at around ten in the morning. Sam is the one who knocks.

   A couple of minutes go by and Sam is about to try again but then he hears the sound of a latch being slid open on the other side. When Nick opens the door he is talking on the phone and wearing nothing but white boxers. He beckons Sam and Dean inside, points them to the couches and heads over to the kitchen. A tall ceiling looms above them as the Winchesters shuffle to the two grey couches positioned across from each other. As he looks at the glass coffee table and the grayscale modern decor Sam thinks that this place does not look lived in- everything is plain and too new. Maybe Nick just moved in, or maybe he does not live here. The kitchen is to the left, with no walls separating the two spaces so Sam has a clear view of Nick walking around behind the large kitchen island. It’s incredibly cold in the apartment and Sam doesn’t know how Nick is able to go about in just his underwear. Sam’s jacket and flannel do not even help keep out the chill.

   Sam lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and looks away. He didn’t mean to stare, but something about Nick is drawing his attention. Nick’s messy blonde hair and growing stubble are so at odds with his well-groomed appearance yesterday that Sam doesn’t know what to think. Well actually he does, but Sam is trying to avoid the thought. The thought that maybe, just maybe, Sam finds Nick attractive. “Can’t the guy put on some clothes,” Dean whispers to him in an annoyed manner. After not getting a response Dean follows Sam’s line of sight. “Dude, stop ogling him,” Dean nudges him. Sam turns to his brother.

   “I am not ogling him.”

   “You are definitely checking him out Sammy.”

   Sam ignores Dean because he is _not_ checking out the other man. The memory of the scent of rain and the thundering of his own heart at their first meeting hits suddenly, and it just won’t leave Sam alone. There is something there, in the curve of Nick’s shoulders, in his leisurely stride. Something that screams self-assurance. Maybe because Sam is not confident about his own actions right now so he is fascinated by someone who is, or maybe because it reads as attractive, either way it is making Sam all the more interested in Nick. But Sam’s never really been into guys so he doesn’t know why he is suddenly drawn to the smooth expanse of Nick’s chest or the thickness of his arms. Nick’s white boxers sit low on his hips as he walks back and forth with a hand on his hip and the other on his phone. Okay, so maybe Sam is checking him out. So sue him. It’s not like this little attraction will go anywhere.

   Nick catches Sam staring and Sam quickly looks away. There is a loft above them that Sam had not noticed where he assumes the bedroom is. The staircase leading up to it is metal with large gaps between the steps. Sam is distracting himself by thinking about ladder safety when Nick finally puts down the phone.

   “Sorry about that,” Nick offhandedly gestures to his phone as he walks around the island and leans against it, facing the Winchesters. “What can I do for you gentlemen? Sam, you had something you wanted to tell me?” Nick says as he crosses his arms over his chest.

   Sam lets his gaze dart from Nick’s biceps to his face. Nick is smiling softly at him in a self-satisfied way. Sam is slightly more interested in the way the white boxers contrast with Nick’s skin than Dean’s obnoxious throat clearing and okay, he really needed Nick to put on some clothes or else he would not be able to concentrate at all.

  “Yeah, I…”

  “You can’t arrest us.” Dean cuts in, clearly over waiting for Sam, “Also, please put on some clothes, you’re giving my brother a hard time.”

   “Dean, what the fuck!” Sam can’t help the outburst but he was actually going to kill Dean for embarrassing him. His face burns and he looks over to Nick. Nick throws his head back, laughing good naturedly.

   “You’ll have to excuse my appearance, I didn’t expect you this early,” He explains but ignores Dean’s request and instead focuses on his first statement. “Now why would I not arrest two people who are breaking the law by impersonating federal agents?”

   “Because it’s part of our job,” Sam quickly steps in because he had promised Dean he would do all the explaining.

   “Your job requires you use fake credentials?”

   “Most of the time.”

   “And what is it you do?”

   Sam throws Dean a glance. Dean gives him the look which clearly reads “get on with it.” So Sam takes a breath and starts opening the can of worms. “We’re hunters.”

   Nick looks confused, head tilted to the right.

   “We’re not regular hunters, we don’t hunt animals,” Dean adds.

   “Then what do you hunt?”

   “Monsters,” Sam answers.

   Nick raises an eyebrow, “monsters?”

   “Yeah, werewolves, vampires, witches, ghosts, demons, you name it- we’ve seen it.”

   Sam sounds crazy to his own ears. Oh, god, is this going to work or did Sam just screw them over. “It’s true, we kill the supernatural,” Dean adds for validation.

   Nick’s eyebrow remains raised. “I think I’m going to have to put you on a mental hold before arresting you.”

   Dean groans beside him and Sam is quick to interject.

   “We’re not crazy. I swear. Saving people, hunting things, it’s the family business. Monsters really do exist and somebody has to be out there protecting human beings from getting hurt. I know it sounds like I’m making all of this up but if you just give us the chance we can prove it. This case that we have right now, it’s clearly something supernatural. I know the only way to convince people of the supernatural is for them to witness it. We can work it together, find the monster and kill it. Nick, you can be part of the hunt and get to see everything for yourself. You don’t have to arrest us, what we do, we do for good reasons. We need to be out there helping, even if we are breaking the law in doing so. If we’re stuck in prison who else will do our job?”

   Sam is pleading with the agent and he really hopes this works out.

   Nick pushes himself off the counter and goes back to pacing like he was during his phone call. His face is unreadable and all Sam can do is sit and wait. Nick stops and turns to them again, crossing his arms and putting a finger to his lip in thought. “You know I’ve heard a lot about you Winchesters.”

  “Oh that’s just great, he already looked us up,” Dean quips.

   Now that Nick knew their real names Sam’s hope was dwindling. The Winchester name did not have a good record in law enforcement. Sam watches Nick drag his pointer finger down his lip in thought, waiting for the next blow.

   “Also heard that you were dead,” Nick says.

   “Well, surprise! We just keep coming back,” Dean sarcastically jabs. Dean clearly wasn’t happy about the situation.

  “That you do,” Nick echoes as if he already knows Sam and Dean have both actually been resurrected on numerous occasions.

   Nick chews at his nail as he stares at Sam. Sam is trying his best to convey “please believe me” through his expression as he basically throws puppy-dog eyes at the man. “If this is all bullshit, if by the end of the week I still don’t believe you- I get to bring you in,” Nick states out of no-where.

  “Deal,” Sam quickly agrees. Dean looks alarmed.

   “Sam you can’t just make a deal where one of the outcomes is us going to prison!” He turns to look at Nick, “Why are we supposed to trust him anyway?”

   “Well considering the fact that Sam here is asking me to trust that you both hunt monsters for a living, and I haven’t called the psych ward yet… I won’t break my word.”

   “And you can’t mention us to the feds," Dean pushes.

  “My lips are sealed. For now.”

   Nick appears complacent, as if this was all going exactly how he imagined. Sam is surprised that Nick did not have more of a reaction. Everything is going pretty smoothly actually, which is unusual.

   “So is that it then?” Sam can’t help questioning Nick’s willingness to believe them.

   “If that is all you came for,” Nick smirks over to him and Sam is reminded of the fact that the man is practically naked.

   “Yes,” Sam smiles tightly. He’s ready to get away from the man that caused so much confusion to stir within him.

    At the door the brothers promise Nick to keep him in the loops of their investigation and call as soon as they have anything. Dean turns to leave first, slipping out the door and heading towards the elevator. Nick holds the door as Sam heads out after his brother. But something has been bothering Sam ever since Nick had called them out on their hoax. Sam stops in the doorframe and turns around to find blue eyes looking up at him, as if Nick had known that Sam is going to say something. Sam finds patience inscribed in the gaze, like Nick would be okay with putting everything on pause if Sam needed him to, like he has all the time in the world to wait and listen. Sam just has to remember his original train of thought.

   “Nick.”

   “Yes, Sam?”

   “Why didn’t you tell anyone or detain us as soon as you realized we weren’t agents?”

    No matter from which angle Sam thought about it he couldn’t see the logic in Nick not acting immediately on his suspicions. Nick takes a long look at Sam, as if he is trying to decide his answer. His eyes light up when he has settled on one and a slight quirk settles on his lips.

   “Because as much as I would love to see you in a pair of handcuffs, I would hate to see your pretty face end up behind bars.”

   Sam can’t help it. He bursts out laughing and Nick’s grin grows. He looks so damn pleased with himself, like he accomplished some incredible feat and Sam can’t help but find it funny.

   “You took so long to answer because you were trying to craft a good pick up line?” Sam asks incredulously.

   “Well did it work?” Nick smiles over at Sam and Sam’s dimples grow in response.

   “Keep trying.” Okay, so Sam was officially flirting back now.

   “Playing hard to get Sammy, I like it.”

   “You didn’t actually answer my question.”

   “I think that counts as a sufficient answer.”

   Before Sam could reply Dean’s yell for him to hurry up cuts him off. “I have to go, I’ll call you if anything comes up.” For some reason Sam is having a hard time leaving. Nick just leans against the door he’s still holding open for Sam. Sam watches amusement flicker on his face. “I’ll just be sitting here, waiting,” Nick smirks and Sam mimics the action.

  “Maybe find some good pick-up lines while you’re at it.”

   Just as Nick is about to give an undoubtedly witty reply Dean yells at his brother to hurry up.

   With a wave Sam wrenches himself from Nick’s apartment and finds his brother standing in the elevator holding the doors open. Dean gives him a look but thankfully doesn’t say anything. “That went well,” Sam tries to fill the awkward silence.

  “Yeah, it did. Now we just have to figure out what kind of monster we’re dealing with.”

   Dean’s right, they still don’t have a clue what killed the hikers, they were too busy thinking about the whole Nick fiasco. Sam rolls his shoulders and glances back at the apartment building they are now walking away from. In the back of his mind there lies a strange feeling that their agreement with Nick is the start of something greater than bargained for.

   Sam just can’t figure out what.

 

* * *

 

    Lucifer really had not planned on flirting with Sam. His original intent was to form a partnership with his vessel based on understanding and fueled by indignation. He hadn’t considered that humans are more receptive of romantic advances, much less that he himself would be tempted to tease his vessel. But for some reason he could not help himself, something about the connection made it simple for Lucifer to just be himself with his vessel. As much as he could be himself at least, without telling Sam his identity. He was doing a decent job at maintaining the grasp on his powers in Sam’s presence so far. He drums his fingers along the table, wondering what had possessed him to take this approach to getting close to his vessel. Lucifer supposes it doesn’t matter, he has always had a soft spot for Sam, even before Sam existed and the idea of the two prophesied brothers, the vessels of archangels, floated through heaven and hell. It had been the only positive concept in his mind as the years passed in his prison. The last thing his father planned to give him. Besides thoughts of revenge, heresy, hatred and pride, was the constant hope that one day he would not only prove that he was right but that someday he wouldn’t be alone in the endeavor. If flirting his way through this would get him the connection and the victory he needs, he doesn’t mind.

    Now here he was, sitting inside some human establishment, waiting for his promised vessel to show. Sam had called him earlier to update him on the case. Lucifer suggested they meet and Sam had named this diner. Lucifer’s grace draws his eyes to the entrance, recognizing Sam before he even opens the door. Sam looks around, spots Lucifer and heads over to join him. “I was worried I was being stood up,” Lucifer quips because Sam is late.

   “Sorry, I had to talk Dean into doing the last bit of snooping on his own,” Sam replies, apologetic.

   “Hmm and what have you found out so far?” Lucifer does not care for what is hurting people out there, has not even given a thought as to what being it is. But he is interested in Sam’s thoughts and theories so he’ll give this conversation the time of day.

   “Well we went out and talked to the parents of the victims. Both the families said they were good kids, they were actually planning on getting engaged this year. No history of any bad blood, they couldn’t think of anyone who would want to hurt them.”

   “So you ruled out murder?”

   “Committed by a human,” Sam states.

   “Right,” Lucifer drags the word in disbelief just as a waitress comes up to them.

   “Hey guys!” she says cheerfully as she approaches them with a notepad. “What can I get for you?”

    Lucifer notices that Sam has his mouth half open but is hesitating, probably waiting for Lucifer to go ahead. Lucifer has no idea what they serve, nor has he any intention of finding out. He looks at Sam. “I’m fine. Order.”

   “Are you sure, sir?” the waitress asks.

   Lucifer ignores her in favor of prompting Sam again. “Sam?”

   “Um, I’ll have a salad then.” Sam throws the girl an apologetic smile for Lucifer’s behavior.

   “Caesar, or-?”

   “Caesar is fine.”

   Sam focuses back on Lucifer, brows furrowed slightly and worrying the corner of his lip like he was debating saying something. “And two coffees,” he tacks onto is order and the waitress leaves.

   “You need that much caffeine?” Lucifer questions.

   “One of those is for you,” Sam says simply.

   “I prefer tea,” Lucifer replies. He has not tried coffee but the idea of consuming a cheap powdered version of a coffee bean unsettles him. Who knows what the humans have done with it? What chemicals they put in?

   Sam rolls his eyes, “Well you could have mentioned that earlier.” He hails over the same waitress and corrects the order. “Can we make that one coffee and one tea?” He asks her, putting on a hopeful expression.

   “Sure thing,” she smiles at him and Lucifer can feel her attraction to the Winchester bleed through the air.

   The girl walks away and Sam turns to Lucifer, “There now that’s settled.”

   Lucifer hums in agreement and thanks Sam.

   “I just ordered you a drink, it’s no big deal. I would have felt awkward if you were just sitting there.”

   “Yes but it shows consideration. It’s the small acts that matter after all.”

   The waitress comes back with their drinks. As she sets down the cup in front of him Lucifer thanks her with a forced smile, making sure that Sam doesn’t notice the insincerity plastered on his face. When she walks away again Sam is gently smiling into his cup of coffee, studying Lucifer. Lucifer doesn’t know what he’s done to deserve the look. He was just playing nice. “What?”

   Sam continues observing him curiously. “Nothing,” he answers.

   “I was just being polite.”

   “After being rude to her earlier,” Sam says, still smiling.

   Lucifer doesn’t know how to respond to that because he still does not understand what Sam is so happy about. He can’t sense anything but a faint warmth emitting from Sam, no distinct emotions he can make out to help him read the human.

   “You’re trying to make it up to her.”

   Oh, well that’s funny. Sam thinks that Lucifer feels bad for his earlier behavior because they had just talked about consideration of other people. Sam thinks Lucifer is being considerate of the girl’s feelings. As encouraging as it is that Sam thinks that he is a good person, unfortunately Lucifer can’t care less about the waitress. In fact, he doesn’t care about anyone in this diner, or the town, or the state. He does actively want to wipe out humanity after all. But he plays along because it is easier than telling his vessel the truth. He smiles back at Sam as if he has been caught out. “It’s the small things,” he says, alluding to their earlier conversation.

   “It’s the small things,” Sam agrees.

   His hazel eyes are warm and he seems so relaxed holding his coffee with both hands. Lucifer stares. Sam looks down and laughs awkwardly, letting go of his cup with one hand and brushing his hair behind his ear. “So the case,” he says obligingly.

   “Right, what else did you find out?” Lucifer leans forward on his elbows, one hand prompted under his chin. The waitress pops back in with Sam’s salad, in between bites Sam starts explaining his findings.

   “So apparently, for months people have been saying weird stuff is happening in the woods. The town gossip revolves around stories from those woods. Get this- there are multiple people who have experienced trees moving and shifting when they are out there, or paths changing directions or getting seemingly longer. Hardly anyone hikes there anymore because they say the woods chase them out. Loud unexplainable footsteps follow them, people have heard whispering when there was no-one else there. A woman told me that roots kept tripping her even though she made sure to walk on a clear path.”

   Sam looks so intrigued by this case and Lucifer can tell he does not know what creature could be doing this. He is trying to decide if he should appear skeptical again but he doesn't want to put on more of an act than he has to.

   “But none of those things are violent,” he says instead.

   “I think those people just got lucky and got away in time. The parents of the victims said they left for their hike around 9 am. We know they died sometime that night from the coroner’s report. That’s a long time to be out there.”

   “You’re right, and there are the other two cases of individuals getting trapped and starving to death.”

   “That was more than likely caused by the same creature, I doubt they wouldn’t have been able to break free of normal roots,” Sam says putting down his fork, done with the salad, and taking a sip of his now cold coffee.

    Now that Sam explained this to him, and from their previous findings at the morgue, Lucifer has a pretty solid idea of what they are dealing with. However, Sam does not and Lucifer cannot spoil the fun for him. “So there’s some kind of supernatural being out in those woods that is able to change the layout of the woods, control nature, and if provoked, suffocate people by growing plants into their airways?”

    “Seems like it,” Sam shrugs.

   “Any idea what it is?”

   “No clue,” Sam gives him a crooked grin, “haven’t come across anything like this before.”

   “I thought you said you’ve seen it all,” Lucifer needles.

   “Life is full of surprises, I guess.”

   “That it is,” Lucifer concedes, “So what is your brother doing?”

   “He’s out talking to the guy who found the graves.”

   “Think he’ll find out anything useful?”

   “Probably not, it’s mostly going to be researching what type of monster could do all this now. We are going to go to the forest tomorrow though, want to come?” Sam says this casually but Lucifer can hear the slight jump in his heart beat.

   “Aw, you liking my company Sammy?” Lucifer teases.

   Sam crosses his arms, “Don’t call me that. It’s just Sam.”

   “But Dean calls you Sammy.”

   “I’ve also been asking him to stop for years but he won’t because he is an asshole of an older brother.”

   Lucifer laughs at that, and Sam loosens his posture again. “So you coming?” he asks.

   “Yes, Sam, I’ll go.” Lucifer’s focus is on spending time with his vessel after all. Sam smiles easily at him and Lucifer returns a closed lipped smile. They sit in comfortable silence while Lucifer finishes his tea. Lucifer turns his attention to the window to the right of them when he picks up the sound of rain. He has a suspicion that he is responsible for the sudden shower. His stay is starting to affect the weather. Rain drops trickle down the glass and Lucifer suddenly wants nothing more than to be away from all of this, this diner, these people. The one person keeping him anchored speaks up.

   “Oh, it started raining,” Sam looks baffled, “it was sunny when I got here.”

   “Guess Maine’s weather is as unpredictable as its woods,” Lucifer chimes in.

   “Do you want a ride back to your place? It looks like it’s really coming down,” Sam asks as he glances at the rainfall. It’s grey and gloomy outside, a total contrast to how it was earlier and if Lucifer cares to listen he could hear other people in the diner talking about the sudden change. He supposes a car ride with Sam wouldn’t hurt, as much as he would hate being in the tiny space. He agrees and Sam goes to pay at the front. By the time they get to the car the shoulders of Lucifer’s suit jacket are soaked and Sam’s hair is dripping down his neck. “God, it’s pouring,” Sam says as he starts the car. Lucifer makes a noise of agreement and looks around the interior. This car was decidedly not the impala that the brothers usually drove.

   “Did you steal this car?” Lucifer raises an eyebrow at Sam who looks slightly guilty.

    Sam throws him a sheepish smile and shrugs, “Maybe.”

   “Right, better not ask.”

    Sam gives him an apologetic quirk of the lips. They drive in a comfortable silence as Lucifer internally struggles to stay put. He really is not appreciating being in the tiny space, but he knows that asking Sam to at least open the window would be strange in human terms, as it is still raining. It is a ten minute car ride to the apartment building. Lucifer obviously is not actually staying there, he is just taking advantage of the conveniently empty space. “So do you live in Maine?” Sam asks, breaking through Lucifer’s musings.

   “No, I’m just leasing the apartment while I have work here,” Lucifer responds smoothly.

   “So you expected this case to take a while?”

   “Real crimes take time to solve, Sam.”

   “I guess it would be pretty different. You can’t hunt down the criminal and kill them.”

   Lucifer laughs at that, covering his mouth with his hand as he chuckles into his palm, “No, I can’t,” he agrees. They arrive at their destination and as Sam cuts the engine Lucifer supposes thanks are in order. His vessel is being quite a generous soul even though they are technically still strangers. “Thank you for the ride, and the tea.”

   “No problem.”

   “It’s the sweetest thing anyone’s done for me,” his tone is light and teasing but he’s being honest.

   “Sure.” By the way Sam drags the word out Lucifer can tell Sam thinks he is exaggerating.'

   “I’m deadly serious,” Lucifer admits, because sitting in solitary confinement in hell did not exactly bring many experiences of someone treating him to lunch. He looks out the window of the car, eyes tracking the raindrops trickling down the surface. He shouldn’t have brought it up though. Thinking about his imprisonment never left him in a good mood. His frozen grace claws against the ribcage of the body he is currently occupying as flashes of rage and screams of vindictiveness raise up inside of Lucifer. He pushes them down and stares bitterly out into the rain.

   “You’re kidding right?”

   “Not a lot of caring gestures in this line of work Sam,” Lucifer says coyly, trying to stop Sam’s prodding. He really should not have played the victim card this early on. Sam nods along slowly.

   “Yeah, I get that. But surely someone’s treated you to a better lunch than some tea.”

   Lucifer gives a smile at that, “You’re the first Sammy.”

   Sam scowls at the nickname but persists, “You don’t know anybody who would care enough to drive you home when it’s pouring rain?”

   “Not many people find me agreeable,” he responds, trying to keep the joking tone going.

   Maybe Lucifer should come up with some co-worker that he has a friendship with because Sam seems to be very perplexed by the idea that he doesn’t know anyone. Sam raises his eyebrows.

   “You need to get better people in your life.”

   Personally, Lucifer thinks he doesn’t need people in his life. He needs a person, singular. Specifically he needed the person to be his one true vessel. He’s over this conversation though, and as much patience as he has with Sam he is getting very tired of sitting in this car. “Benevolence has never been a luxury awarded to me,” Lucifer states simply, dropping the light-hearted tone, wanting Sam to just take the hint and stop questioning him.

   A stunned silence rings out into the space. Lucifer watches the rain. This conversation is not going as planned. He can feel emotions rolling off Sam in waves. Amongst the predominant one, confusion, Lucifer senses something that makes his teeth grind. He does not want pity from his vessel- or sympathy. If anything, he wants empathy, would revel in it if Sam was to comprehend his hardships. His vessel should surely be able to- they are made for each other after all; they were mirror images- one in the same. But as Lucifer picks out Sam’s train of thought he knows that this isn’t entirely true.

   “That can’t be true, you have to have some people that care about you?”

   Lucifer blows out a breath onto the window softly and traces in the precipitation gathered there. “No, I am alone,” he says slowly, voice close to a whisper.

   And that’s the biggest difference between him and Sam Lucifer thinks. No matter how many times Lucifer knows Sam has felt different and lost, no matter how many times Sam felt loneliness creep into his bones he was never truly alone. He had Dean. He can feel Sam watching him, but he doesn’t turn around, just wipes away the condensation and opens the door. “Thanks again Sam,” he says as he steps out into the rain. Sam says something but it is too late, Lucifer has closed the door and is walking away.

   Lucifer takes a breath he does not need.

   Sam blinks and he is gone, nothing but a ghost disappearing from the empty parking lot.

 

* * *

 

   Sam cannot shake the guilt he feels. He had not meant to push Nick too far. He didn’t even get to apologize for being invasive before the man all but ran out of the car and disappeared into the rainfall. Sam groans, why did he have to be so curious about everything. What made him assume Nick was okay with telling a stranger about whom he had and who he did not have in his life? And if it’s true that Nick had no-one than Sam felt even worse about his line of questioning. Sam presses his palms into his eyes. He really likes Nick too. God, if he fucked this up...

   “Stop brooding,” Dean kicks at Sam’s legs which are dangling off the motel bed, “we have shit to do.”

   Right, today was the day they were going to go to the woods for the first time.

   “You still have to call our friendly neighborhood FBI agent,” Dean jokes.

   Sam rubs his eyes and gets up. He had been debating sending an apology text to Nick last night but he wasn’t sure if they were on a texting bases yet. Now though he had to call the agent anyway to ask when he would be able to go to the forest with them. Dialing Nick’s number, Sam walks out of the motel room for some privacy.

   “Sam?” Nick picks up on the first ring.

   “Yeah. Hi, Nick,” Sam suddenly feels awkward.

   “Hello to you too,” Sam could tell Nick was smirking by his voice.

   “Listen, I just wanted to say sorry for prying yesterday,” Sam gets out.

   There’s a beat and Nick responds, “Aren’t you cute. You don’t have to apologize Sam. No harm, no foul.”

   “So we’re good?”

   “Obviously.”

   “And you’re coming today?”

   “Well considering I have yet to witness anything that makes me believe in monsters, yes.”

   “Can you meet us at the police station at two then? That’s where we are meeting the guy who found the bodies. He’s going to show us the way.”

   “I’ll be there.”

   “Okay, see you soon.”

   “Bye Sam.”

    Sam feels a lot better knowing that Nick’s attitude has not changed. He was worried for a second that the easiness that came with talking to the man would be gone. But the presence of the usual repartee assures Sam that he has over-reacted. Nick clearly isn’t lingering on yesterday’s conversation and Sam believes him when he says he does not need an apology.

   “So what did he say?” Dean pops his head out from the room.

   “He’ll meet us there.”

   “Cool,” Dean claps, rubbing his hands together, “hopefully we find something that helps us figure out what this thing is.” Sam mutters an agreement and joins Dean back inside. They start to get ready to head out. An hour later they are cruising down to the police station, Dean tapping against the steering wheel as he nods along to his usual jams. When they get there Dean spots the guy he talked to yesterday sitting on the front steps. Dean cuts the engine and they spill out of the car. “That’s Joshua,” Dean nods over to the young man.

   “Is he a stoner?” Sam asks as he takes in his appearance.

   “Oh yeah, big time. Kind of looks like Shaggy from Scooby-Do, don’t you think?” Dean whispers to his brother as they walk over.

   “Yeah but with a beanie,” Sam whispers back before raising his voice, “Hi, Joshua is it?”

   “Yeah,” Joshua stands up.

   “This is my partner Sam,” Dean says by means of introduction. Sam and Joshua shake hands. “So you ready to show us where you found the bodies?”

   Joshua nods.

   Dean looks around, “Where’s Mr. FBI?”

   Sam checks the time. It is ten minutes past two so Nick should be here by now. Sam shrugs in response to Dean’s question. Nick didn’t strike him as the type to be late.

   “Maybe you and Joshua should go now and I’ll stay and wait for Nick?” Sam offers. Dean gives him a dubious look. They don’t usually split up like this.

   “We can take my car,” Joshua cuts into the Winchester stare off.

   “I’m just saying, it’s better for me to just wait than all of us wasting time,” Sam says. Okay, maybe Sam is trying to buy himself more alone time with the agent but that does not mean Dean has to be suspicious.

   “Okay,” Dean slowly agrees, reaching into his pocket for the keys to the Impala. “Be gentle with her,” Dean hands the keys to Sam.

    Sam rolls his eyes. “Let’s go Josh,” Dean says. Sam waves the pair off. As they walk away Dean calls over his shoulder, “No funny business in my baby.”

    Sam flips him off but his brother doesn’t notice. He watches Dean and Josh get into some beat up sedan. He crosses the parking lot back to the Impala and leans against its side as he waits for Nick to show. Five minutes pass with Sam just watching people walk by and cops go in and out of the station. He checks the time again. When he looks back up a figure is heading toward him. “I thought I was being stood up,” Sam teases as Nick walks up to him.

   “Never,” Nick smoothly flirts back coming to stop in front of Sam. He’s a couple inches shorter than Sam and for some reason that makes Sam smile. “But I do apologize for being late. Lost track of time,” he explains as Sam opens the passenger door for him.

   “It’s fine. Dean took off though.” Sam closes the door after Nick gets in and walks around to the driver’s side.

   “Someone’s not very patient,” Nick says as Sam gets in.

   “Actually I just wanted to get you alone,” Sam says, his tone suggestive. He really doesn’t know why he feels so comfortable around Nick. Every time Sam sees Nick it is like a breath of fresh air. He can just focus on the good company and all of his worries are chased away. And he gets to practice his flirting, which was a plus.

   “Oh, getting frisky are we Sam Winchester?” Nick asks, intrigued.

   “Dean’s actually only letting me use the car because I promised we would keep it PG-13.”

   Sam’s cheek dimples in response to Nick as he barks out a laugh. All of Nick’s laughs hold a ring of surprise, like he never expects to actually find Sam entertaining. Sam stares a bit as the corners of Nick’s eyes crinkle and he puts a fist to his mouth to quiet down. “Promises are made to be broken,” Nick replies as he takes a breath between chuckles. Damn, Nick is good this. “Come on Sam, hasn’t the sexual tension gotten to you yet?” Nick jokes and Sam burst out laughing.

   “The longer the wait the sweeter the kiss,” Sam throws back. Nick hums thoughtfully in response as Sam finally starts the car. Music blasts from the speakers as Sam turns the key in the ignition. Sam is so surprised he jumps and curses. “God damn it Dean! I am so sorry… Dean and his music…” He moves to turn the stereo off but Nick stops him.

   “I like this song,” something mischievous flitters across Nick’s face. He takes the liberty of leaning over Sam and rolling down the window on his side. He stops in the process and Sam shivers as cold breath hits his neck. “Come on Sam, live a little,” Nick whispers, light and cocky. He leans back a little, eyeing Sam, toying with him. Sam’s eyes flick down to the blonde’s lips. He watches transfixed as Nick’s tongue darts out and wets them a little. His lips curve into a knowing smirk. Sam looks up at that, catches the smugness in Nick’s eyes. “I’ll make a sinner out of you yet, Sam Winchester,” with that Nick settles back into his seat, taking Sam’s temptation with him and looking as pleased as a wolf who just caught a sheep.

    Sam gives him one of his patent bitch faces and backs out of the parking spot as Nick rolls down his own window. Something about the blaring bass/guitar and the devilish company makes Sam turn up the volume. Nick smiles at that and as the first verse starts Nick immediately starts singing along.

   “ _Yeah! I feel you too_ ,” Nick mimics the dirty tone of the singer and smirks at Sam’s expression. “ _Feel those things you do_ ,” he draws out the last note eyes slowly raking down Sam’s body. “ _In your eyes I see a fire that burns to free the you_ ,” Nick points to him, “ _that’s wanting through. Deep inside you know, seeds I plant will grow._ ”

    There’s something wicked in the way Nick sings this, like he is promising to debauch Sam. But Sam assumes most rock songs are supposed to leave one feeling depraved and like a sinner. Nick is having fun and as Sam speeds through the highway he realizes he is having a good time too. It’s silly and casual and Sam decides to ignore the fact that the song’s called ‘devil’s dance’ and just roll with Nick’s impromptu performance. Nick actually doesn’t sound half bad imitating James Hetfield but that’s not what is capturing Sam’s attention. It is that Nick looks utterly pleased with the song choice, as if he could not have asked for anything more appropriate.

    Something in the back of Sam’s mind is whispering for him to be suspicious. But as Sam looks at the man beside him, takes in the wild hair that looks like it has not brushed since the day they met, the playful glances that Nick keeps throwing Sam while he holds a hand out of the window, the wolfish smile- Sam cannot think of anything to be suspicious of. Nick has one of his hands closed in a fist, using it as a microphone as he turns to Sam.

   “ _I am the snake, tempting that bite you take_ ,” he winks again as he sings along, “ _let me make your mind, leave yourself behind!_ ”

   Sam is trying to turn is attention back to driving safety but it isn’t working. He eyes Nick again who, in turn, points at Sam as he sings the next line.

  “ _Be not afraid. I’ve got what you need, hunger I will feed._ ” Nick bops his head in time with the bass and Sam throws him an exasperated look because he is distracting. “Who doesn’t like a little Metallica?” Nick yells over the song and promptly resumes singing. “ _One day you will see, and dare to come down to me_ ,” he points downward before grinning at Sam, “ _come on take a chance_.”

  “It’ll be more fun if you sing along Sam,” he singsongs.

  Sam rolls his eyes but surrenders, he’s already tapping along to the song on the steering wheel and nodding his head to the drums anyway.

   By the end of the car ride Sam is jamming out with Nick like he used to with Dean back in the day. They park at the trailhead and Nick gets out of the car and stretches. His shirt rides up a little and Sam’s eyes catch on the exposed skin.

  “Sam! Nick!” Dean comes stumbling out of the bushes with Josh behind him. Nick waves to Dean.

  “Did you already go to the spot?” Sam asks, confused.

   “Nah, Josh just showed me the general direction. Apparently he’s too scared to come with us.”

   “You don’t get it man! These woods are crazy!” Joshua whines, throwing up his hands, “If I wasn’t high as fuck that day I would have never set foot in them!”

   Dean rolls his eyes, “okay, get out of here kid.” He pats Josh on the back. Sam, Dean, and Nick wait as he gets into his car and drives away.

   “Lead the way,” Nick gestures at Dean.

   They follow the winding path through the pines. They approach a clearing, looking around as the leaves blow in the breeze. The place is right in the middle of the forest and pines surround them on all sides. Its midday and Sam is already starting to sweat through his flannel because of the humidity. How Nick is standing there in his usual impeccable suit and not breaking a sweat from the trek is beyond him.

   “Is this it?" Nick looks around and sees scattered roots from the torn apart makeshift graves by the investigators who recovered the bodies.

   “Yeah,” Dean replies.

   “So what now?”

   “We look around, see if we can find anything that helps us figure out what this thing is,” Sam explains. They spread out through the clearing.

   “So that’s clearly where they died,” Nick says conversationally.

   Sam watches as he bends down and picks up one of the branches. He looks up at Sam, twiddling the twig in his fingers. “Well this couldn’t have grown over night.”

   Nick stays focused on Sam as Dean replies, “But it did.”

   “Sam…” Nick’s tone is serious and his eye narrow. It’s a warning and suddenly Sam hears Dean yelp.

   He spins around and sees his brother on the ground.

   “What the fuck?” Dean sits there, looking stunned.

   “Are you okay?” Sam worries. What just happened?

   “Yeah,” Dean gets up slowly, “I took a step backwards and tripped over something.”

   Sam and Dean both look down at the ground where Dean was standing. There’s nothing there, just flat dirt. Nick crosses his arms as he straightens up and nods to something, “Look.” Sam and Dean comply. Across the clearing vines appear to grow in seconds, snaking their way to the trio. They act as sentient beings as they head straight for the closest person to them. The hunters freeze as the vines come to the toe of Nick’s shoe. Sam holds his breath as he watches the leaves sprout at the base of the boot and slowly climb up, as if they were testing Nick. Nick watches curiously as Sam waits for something inevitably bad to happen. Suddenly the vines stop their growth. They hurry to get off Nick, quickly retracting. They reroute themselves and stretch to the next available target, Sam. Before they could reach him, Nick takes a step in front of him, “We should go. Now. Especially if you don’t know how to deal with this.” The vines have stopped and turned around, steadily sprouting toward Dean.

   “Yeah, let’s get out of here,” Dean says as he side-steps away from them. Sam and Nick follow him out of the clearing. They hurry back to the car as the sound of trees creaking and swaying echo through the forest. They run to the car and get the hell away from the woods. “What the hell was that?” Dean yells as he drives back onto the main road.

   “I don’t know, but we’ve got a lot of researching to do,” Sam replies, out of breath. He turns around. Nick is sitting in the backseat fixing his suit jacket and tie. He appears calm for someone who has just witnessed something supernatural for the first time. “You ok?”

   Nick looks up as he is fixing his cuffs, “Yes.”

   “Nick, what the fuck did you do? It looked like those vines were scared of you!” Dean asks in disbelief.

   “I don’t know, but it seems supernatural entities don’t find me agreeable either,” Nick says, lips turned up slightly as he meets Sam’s eye.

   “Funny,” Sam mutters and turns around while Nick laughs quietly at his own joke.

 

 

* * *

 

    “So what are we doing exactly?” Nick asks as he twirls a pair of chopsticks.

    They are sitting in the motel room eating Chinese food that Nick brought because Nick is apparently a godsend. Ok, maybe Sam is over exaggerating, but he hasn’t had dinner and Nick was nice enough to pick something up on his way over. Nick is straddling a chair a couple feet away from Sam. He’s not wearing his suit today, instead he’s dressed in a solid green flannel, an olive shirt, and jeans. Sam supposes he can’t judge him, especially since he himself is wearing the trademark Winchester flannel. He gestures to the bed which is covered in a pile of books. “I went to the library and picked out books with lore about creatures that manipulate nature. A lot of them are Celtic mythology. There are books about faeries, fauns, elves, and others. I was thinking that anything that lives in a forest sounds like fair game,” Sam shrugs. “I just need help going through them. We need to find out what we’re hunting and then find out how to kill it,” he says as he finishes his food. Nick nods along as if he is used to hearing talk of magical beings. He gets up off the chair he was straddling and walks over to the mound of books.

   “Shall we begin?” Nick pats the spot on the bed next to him.

   Sam throws him that _are you serious_ look.

   “Come on, I’m helping you out of the kindness of my heart. I’m not even getting repaid in sexual favors,” Nick whines and Sam rolls his eyes. “The least you could do is keep me company,” Nick pouts.

   Sam gives in and throws away his plate before joining Nick on the bed. There’s not a lot of room, not with two grown men and a pile of books taking up most of the space. Sam’s shoulder brushes against Nick’s if either of them move but Sam finds he doesn’t mind. It’s nice actually, they work well together. For hours they sit there, scouring through the pages, stopping every now and then to ask each other’s opinion.

   “What about Druantia, queen of the Druids and protector of trees?”

   Nick looks over at the book in Sam’s lap.

   “It also says here that she’s goddess of sex and fertility. I don’t think she would want to kill the couple.”

   Sam groans and rubs his eyes. They have not found anything similar and they have gone through half the books. Nick’s biting his thumb nail in concentration and when he sees that Sam is watching him he lightly elbows Sam to get back to work. Sam goes to grab his laptop. “What are you doing?” Nick mumbles not even bothering to look up.

   “I’m going to see if I can find anything online.”

   “Try looking up a list of nature deities. We’ve been focusing on Celtic mythology. I would say try Slavic or Nordic folklore.”

   Sam raises an eyebrow but does as Nick suggests. By the time that Nick is done going through the rest of the books, Sam has gone deep into the links of Wikipedia. He clicks on a page about Porewit, a deity that punishes those who mistreat the forest, and thinks that might be it, but he keeps scrolling, just in case anything else catches his eye. He eventually settles on an article about a monster from Russian folk tales. He notices that Nick is gazing off into the distance looking tiered. Sam is tempted to do something stupid like give the man a thank you kiss for staying up with Sam and helping him while Dean’s out hustling and presumably drinking. Nick wouldn’t mind. Instead, Sam tries to gently re-engage Nick. Sam lets out a soft “hey” and Lucifer blinks back to attention at the sound of Sam’s voice. Nick tilts his head to the side questioningly. “Did you find something?”

   “Maybe. Are you ok?” Sam has to ask because there are dark circles forming under Nick’s eyes and he looks really out of it. Nick hums lazily, closing his eyes and doing a neck roll.

   “I’m fine.”

   Sam’s concern does not fade. “You look exhausted.”

   “Do I?” Nick blinks slowly.

   “Yes. You’ve been here since five. It’s almost one in the morning. You don’t have to stay and wait for me to find something.” Sam hadn’t even noticed the time passing by. He would have let Nick go earlier.

   Nick glances at the clock. “Is this the longest we’ve spent time together?”

   “I think so. Why?”

   Nick drops his head in his hands and rubs at his temples. “I have to get better at this,” he sighs. It’s not directed at him but Sam doesn’t notice.

  “What? Staying up late?”

   Nick gives him a faint smile but does not answer, his movements sluggish as he pulls himself closer to Sam. “Nick, you don’t have to stay.”

   “I enjoy your company,” Nick shrugs gingerly. “Now what did you want to show me?” He rests his chin on Sam’s shoulder and looks down at the laptop. Sam doesn’t mind, lets Nick stay like that as he reads the article. He’s cool pressed against Sam’s side, a nice contrast to Sam’s usual overheated state. “A Leshy? Interesting. Sounds like this could be it.”

  “Yeah but it’s a Russian magical being. How would it end up in Maine?”

  “If humans can cross seas why can’t monsters? Especially if they have a human form.”

  “I guess… I can’t find any more information about it online though.”

  “Can I try?” Nick asks, gaze curious. Sam nods and hands over the laptop. Nick fumbles with it for a second. Sam watches as he clicks around, looking confused.

  “Do you need help?” Sam offers.

  “No,” Nick replies quickly. Sam starts to smile.

  “Have you ever used a laptop before?” He teases Nick.

  “Would you believe me if I said no?”

  “No.”

  “Fine. How do I copy and paste?”

  After Sam answers Nick’s question Nick clicks around a bit more and then smirks.

  “What did you find?”

  “More information,” Nick replies smugly, eyes dancing across the screen as he reads. Sam looks over his shoulder and squints. He can’t read what is on the screen, but he recognizes the Cyrillic script.

  “You can read Russian?”

  “Obviously. I know a lot of languages Sam.” As surprised as Sam is it kind of makes sense. The FBI does tend to hire people who know more than one language. Maybe Nick learned Russian for the job.

  “Can you translate it for me?”

  “The Leshy is a territorial and temperamental guardian of the forest. They can control nature. They use magic to help the wildlife prosper and use tricks to cast away travelers. Travelers that come across their paths become lost. They can shapeshift but usually presents themselves as poor old men. In rare cases Leshy have been known to hunt those who disrespect their forest,” Nick reads out loud and Sam is a little impressed with how quickly he translated that.

  “Does it say how to kill them?”

  Nick scrolls further down the article and nods. “It says to burn it.”

  Well that’s simple. “Okay, I have to tell Dean when he gets back and then we can start planning something,” Sam says. Nick winces and heaves himself off the bed and Sam is reminded of the time. “Jesus christ, I am so sorry this took so long.” Sam feels bad for pulling Nick into this.

  “It breaks my heart to say this but I think I should go,” Nick jokes. Sam smiles and the thought from earlier creeps into his head. Nick wouldn’t mind. But Sam is hesitant to cross any lines so he stays put and ignores his racing heart. Instead he reaches to get the door for his guest.

  “Goodnight Nick. Thanks for helping me. Feel better,” Sam says, his voice warm and gentle.

  “Goodnight Sam. Don’t miss me too much,” Nick teases and leaves with a wave.

  Sam is still smiling long after he closes the door after him.

 

 

* * *

 

    “So you’re sure about this?” Lucifer asks, peeking from over Sam’s shoulder at Dean who is currently stomping ahead of them.

   “Uh, yeah,” Sam replies uncertainly.

   “I don’t know Sam. I wouldn’t trust Dean with a flamethrower.”

   “You’re the one who gave him the flamethrower.”

   “Well you asked and I delivered. Gotta say, I am kind of regretting it."

   They both watch Dean hold onto the hose and attempt to spin the igniter by his side like a rope. The nozzle hits the metal canisters on Dean’s back, clanking loudly, making Dean flinch and trip on a root under him. He catches himself and straightens up. “Nobody saw that,” he yells back at them and continues trudging through the forest. Lucifer gives Sam a look that clearly reads _are you serious_ , sans raised eyebrow and all. Sam just kind of shrugs like he can’t do anything about his brother’s excitement.

   “Are you positive you don’t want to use the flamethrower instead?” Lucifer tries again.

   “I’d rather avoid that responsibility. If Dean starts a forest fire that’s on him,” Sam is joking but he also definitely does not want to start a forest fire. “Is your headache gone? Did you get enough sleep last night? I tried to talk Dean into doing this later in the day to give you more time,” Sam rambles as they walk. It’s endearing how much he worries about people, but all Lucifer needed last night was to get away and free his grace.

  “Yes. Don’t worry,” Lucifer brushes Sam off. He had been shortsighted in thinking that he could keep it crammed up like that inside of him without any repercussions. Fatigue from trying to maintain his power at a minimum, especially when it had raged in hell for centuries, should have been expected. As soon as Sam had closed the door last night Lucifer was flying away. Up in Alaska no-one blinked an eye at the early snowfall. But Lucifer is considering easing the limit on his presence now that Sam is comfortable around him so that Sam becomes used to it. Maybe that would be the better course of action.

   They finally make it to the spot where the hikers were killed. “So, how do we get this thing to come out?” Dean asks while lifting up his shirt to wipe the sweat off his face with its hem.

   “We have to make it angry somehow,” Sam answers.

   “Well last time Dean did that pretty well by just standing there,” Lucifer chimes in and Dean gives him a glare. Lucifer gives him a shit eating grin in return as Dean’s hackles rise in response, Sam quickly steps in.

   “We can try littering?”

   Dean scoffs at the suggestion.

   “Throw something on the ground,” Lucifer tells him.

   Dean rolls his eyes and reaches into his pocket for a crumpled up receipt and throws it on the ground. Lucifer casually rolls his shoulders. Somewhere on the other side of the forest a tree snaps in half. Nobody can blame him for wanting to speed up the process. The wind stops. One moment it was lightly caressing them and the next it is pulling away like a scorned lover. Lucifer expects it, knowing that the guardian of the forest would not take lightly to his action. The forest creaks around them. Everything is still for a moment as the noise of splintering wood echoes. “He’s overreacting,” Dean tries to joke but his tone is apprehensive. The Winchesters look at each other unsurely.

   Lucifer feels a jolt of magic in the earth beneath them and quickly steps back as roots erupt out of the ground. He makes eye contact with Sam as the thick roots intertwine upwards. Sam’s eyes widen and he yells “Nick!” just as the emerging wall blocks their view of each other. Lucifer stands there for a minute, segregated from his vessel by the Leshy’s creation. The fabricated wall reaches up to the treetops and the forest around him has become thicker. The sunlight is blocked out by leaves and silence falls upon his side of the divide. He can’t hear or sense the brothers anymore. It is the Leshy working his magic. He thinks he can cage Lucifer out from the fight. Lucifer smirks. Isn’t that funny? A magical creature messing with an archangel? A fern plant tangles itself around Lucifer’s ankles. He ignores it and starts walking around the wall. He feels the woods brush against his skin. “Leave me alone,” he warns. Shrubs snag at his clothes, clinging desperately. “Don’t mess with me,” Lucifer warns again and watches the plants retreat. Lucifer walks a little further and out ahead of him, in another zone of the former clearing, he sees Dean to the left of Sam, holding the tank and peering at Sam nervously. Lucifer comes over just as Sam notices something lurking behind the trees. “It’s approaching,” he says. Sam’s head whips around at the sound of his voice. Just as Sam is about to reply, a small wrinkled hand moves away some shrubs in front of them, and then the man attached to the hand comes out as well. He stand about five feet, maybe five three, but no more than that. He frowns at them.

   “Уходите.” He’s telling them to leave. The Winchesters take in his green skin and garments.

   Dean raises the nozzle of the flamethrower and smiles, “Sorry, don’t speak Russian. But we do kill monsters.” Sam raises his axe as if that is some kind of cue. Lucifer draws his gun for dramatic effect. Honestly, he doesn’t even know how to properly hold the thing.

   “Как хотите ( _as you wish_ ),” the Leshy complies.

    The roots unfold themselves from the wall and dash for the brothers. Sam swings at them, cutting and hacking as Dean makes the run to get to the Leshy. Dean throws a punch to knock him down but the Leshy catches his wrist. As his hand grips Dean’s arm his fingers become branches and his face starts morphing. Roots replace his hold on Dean. They pull towards the earth, sending Dean to the ground in one fell swoop. He falls. He lands on his other arm, his wrist bending a little too far. He winces, and then, when the roots pull tighter, he hears a snap and yells in pain. “Dean!” shouts Sam, rushing over. As he is running to his brother a thick rope of vines catches him by the leg, he trips with a thud. The vines proceed to pull Sam backwards across the ground. Lucifer calmly watches as his vessel is hoisted into the air by the ankle. Sam curses. He hangs upside down for a second, and then the vine is throwing him into the boulders on the other side of the clearing. Sam groans as he smashes into the rock and falls to the ground. “Sammy!” Dean cries out, still holding onto his broken wrist and trying to crawl away from the Leshy, who is now half tree, half man. Sam is still lying on his stomach but he’s starting push himself up and Lucifer can see that his lip has been cut. Moss from the stones spreads down to Sam and starts covering his arms and Lucifer can sense the panic in Sam.

    Lucifer has had enough. He cannot allow his vessel to get injured further. He lets go of the reigns on his grace and feels it spread through the borrowed veins, seep into every bone. His wings erupt from his back, metaphysical in this world now but present nonetheless. Lucifer slowly extends them to their full glory and then pushes. They beat forward once with enormous strength. Time slows down to an undecipherable crawl. Nature responds to the power suddenly bursting from his pent up grace. Somewhere overhead the crack of a lightning strike can be heard, but no lightning seen- and the trees sway as a gust of wind erupts with Lucifer as its epicenter. He sighs nonchalantly, checking to make sure that for the Winchester’s time has stopped. He then turns to the Leshy who, as a magical creature, gets to escape Lucifer’s tricks. With a blink Lucifer is right in front of him, hovering to be at eye level with the 10 foot tall monster. He leans forward, eyes narrowed and deadly. The Leshy appears unperturbed and Lucifer can’t read him, has never been good at reading magic.

   “Tак вы не черт ( _So you are not a chort_ )?” The Leshy asks formally.

   “Тут черты не водится ( _Chort’s don’t exist in America_ ),” Lucifer replies with perfect Russian. He does know most languages after all.

   “Тогда что вы? Демон? ( _What are you then? A demon?_ )”

   Lucifer has never been more offended in the whole of his existence.

   “Я ангел ( _I'm an angel_ ),” Lucifer replies slowly, voice laced with pride and chin raised.

   The Leshy looks at him for a moment and shakes his head. “Вы дьявол ( _You're the devil_ ).”

   It’s not a question, it’s a statement.

   “Некоторым да. ( _For some, I suppose_ ),” Lucifer doesn’t see the difference. Semantics.

   “Богу? ( _For God?_ )”

    Lucifer stares blankly at the morphed face. How dare he ask? Lucifer ignores him and points to Sam. “Ты его ещё раз тронешь, я не только дам его брату тебя убить, я весь твой лес сожгу ( _You touch him one more time and I’ll not only let his brother kill you, I’ll burn your whole forest down_ ),” His tone is pitched low, menacing.

    The Leshy looks hesitant, “Зачем он тебе? ( _What do you need him for?_ )”

    “Да так- понравился ( _Just 'cause- I like him_ ),” Lucifer sarcastically jokes because this is none of the creature’s business.

    The Leshy takes the hint and nods, obeying Lucifer’s threat. He bows and Lucifer snaps his fingers. The world rushes back to life around them as he hides his wings. He picks up the axe Sam had dropped earlier and crouches under the reanimated vines as he makes his way to Sam. “Are you alright?” The question is rhetorical, Lucifer knows that Sam isn’t seriously injured and Lucifer has just ensured that he doesn’t need to worry about serious harm coming to his vessel and having to expose his identity to heal Sam. But he figures the false concern won’t hurt.

   “Yeah,” Sam gingerly touches his split lip and winces. “We need to help Dean.”

    Gun shots ring out through the clearing. They both turn to see Dean holding up his gun with one hand and firing at everything that is trying to attack him. The Leshy, now unable to fight anyone but the older Winchester, redirects all his powers away from Sam and Lucifer. “Now, while he’s distracted,” Sam tells Lucifer and jumps back into the fray, weaving through vines, and jumping over roots. He swings and slashes at them, doesn’t even notice that they aren’t attacking him, sending leaves and twigs flying through the air. It’s a whirlwind of action as Sam reaches Dean’s side through the opening the plant life is making, hastily dragging itself away from the man. He rushes at the Leshy and with one fell swoop chops off the branch that is his arm. Dean uses that chance to drop his gun and grab the nozzle of the flamethrower.

    “Now,” Sam yells at his brother as he is backing away from the stunned monster. Just as Dean presses the trigger Lucifer calculates that Sam is still in the radius of the blast. Instantly he is behind his vessel, grabbing him by the back of his jacket and pulling as fire erupts from the weapon. It engulfs the towering figure before them and the tip of Sam’s hair catches fire for a split second before Lucifer puts it out. Sam looks stunned. The Leshy burns like any other tree, silent except for the sound of bark crackling, and the earth shudders underneath them as the magic dies off. The roots and vines that were attacking them wither. The fire consumes only the Leshy, a last trick of his magic, and then disappears, and soon they are surrounded by a forest that is pure and natural, the Leshy nothing more than a charred tree. “How’s your wrist?” Sam asks Dean, still breathless from the fight.

   “Fucking broken,” Dean replies bitterly. They start walking back to the impala. “There’s no way I’m driving,” Dean throws the keys to Sam with his good arm. Lucifer slows down and stops at the trailhead as the Winchester’s head for the car. Dean climbs into the passenger side as Sam looks back and sees that Lucifer is not with them.

   “I’m not coming with you.” As much as he had enjoyed the irony of singing songs with Sam about the devil, he’s spent enough time in a car to last him another century. Sam jogs back over to him.

   “How are you going to get back?”

   “That’s classified,” Lucifer jokes, referencing his assumed FBI career. Sam rolls his eyes but smiles. They stand there for a bit, both not wanting to say what is on their minds. Sam breaks first.

   “We’re probably going to be out of here by tomorrow. So I guess this is goodbye.”

   “It appears so.”

   “Sam, hurry up! My wrist isn’t going to set itself,” Dean yells from the car.

   “Give me a minute,” Sam yells back, “Nick I—“

   Lucifer takes a step forward and gently traces his thumb along the forming bruise on Sam’s cheekbone and Sam shuts up. The air around them crackles with static. Lucifer watches as Sam licks his lips and glances down. Lucifer keeps tracing the bruise, fascinated by its slow appearance on his vessel. “We’ll meet again Sam Winchester,” he sighs quietly and leans up to softly brush his lips against the bruise, sending the tiniest bit of grace to heal Sam. Lucifer feels the connection between them call out dully but he ignores it in favor of focusing on the smooth skin warming his frozen lips and the sound of Sam’s racing heart. He pulls away and smiles, pushing slightly at his vessel, motioning for him to go join his brother. Who knew that a kiss on the cheek would render Sam Winchester speechless? His cheeks are tinged a pretty pink and he looks stunned. “Come on Sam, that wasn’t even a real kiss, no need to look so surprised,” Lucifer teases just to watch his vessel flush a darker shade.

   “Nick –“

   “Yes, you can call me anytime you want. Now go before Dean comes and pulls you away with his good arm.”

   Sam smiles at that, “I’ll see you around Nick.”

   “Goodbye Sam.”

   Lucifer watches Sam and Dean drive off. He winces as his wings explode from his back, his grace unravelling with them. His current vessel aches and Lucifer himself feels a little lightheaded from the constant restriction that being around Sam entails. Granted this endeavor is keeping his current vessel in quite good condition actually. Lucifer knows that now that they are past this beginning phase his relationship with Sam should steamroll into a connection that allows him to ask his vessel the grand question. Lucifer is sure that Sam will say yes. In fact, he knows it will happen. He knows that when they get to Detroit it will be the final stop before the world ends. Lucifer smiles to himself. With a beat of wings he is gone, off to wait for the next part of the plan to be set in motion.

 

* * *

 

 

   “Hello? Earth to Sammy?” Dean snaps with one hand in front of Sam’s face and the other on the steering wheel. Sam hums in response, completely ignoring Dean as he keeps typing on his phone. “Sam? Can you check the map now?” Dean pesters.

   “Yeah, one second,” Sam says offhandedly, sending his reply to Nick and Dean rolls his eyes.

    It’s been two weeks since they finished the hunt in Maine and every spare moment they get Sam has been using to either text or call the agent. It’s adorable and disgusting at the same time because Dean has not seen his brother this infatuated with someone since Jess. Sam’s phone pings and he checks it instantly, a smile blooming across his face as he reads the message. He quickly turns to look out the window, resting his elbow on the car door and covering up his smile with his hand. “Oh my god, you’re whipped,” Dean declares as he catches the stupid smile on his brother's face.

   “I am not!” Sam exclaims, finally focusing on his brother.

   “You totally are! Look at you! You’re all sunshine and rainbows,” Dean teases. He does not get to play the annoying big brother role often, doesn’t get to pick on Sam about normal things like girls and school anymore, not with their lives so far from normal. So he’ll take the opportunity now that it has presented itself.

    “I just like talking to him. He’s interesting,” Sam crosses his arms, as he throws Dean his patent bitch face.

    “I’m sure you would like to do a lot more than just talk,” Dean grins over to his brother as Sam chokes on air. Dean laughs while Sam tries to get over his brother joking about the prospect of him sleeping with another man.

    “You’re a jerk,” Sam frowns.

    “Bitch,” Dean throws back. God he missed harping on his kid brother. Sam’s phone pings again. “What do you guys even talk about?”

    “Stuff.”

    “You talk about stuff?” Dean turns to Sam raising his eyebrows. Sam rolls his eyes. “Okay, what kind of stuff?”

    “I tell him about our hunts, in turn he makes up stories to tell me. He’s really good at it actually,” Sam laughs softly and looks down at his hands. “We talk about philosophical questions. Or argue about them really. But it’s all in good fun. We talk about the normal things too. What we want from life, what we are looking for, how our day is going and I don’t know why but it’s so simple.” Sam fiddles with his phone. “It’s good Dean, I think this is good for me.”

    Dean smiles lamely. “That’s good to hear Sammy. But you still need to get laid ASAP cause you’re giggling like a flustered virgin everytime the guy texts you.”

   Sam’s face is the definition of offended. “I do not giggle,” he says as Dean continues laughing.

   “Sure. Now do you want to finally check the map? I missed the last exit and now we could be headed to Mexico for all I know.” Sam reaches for the map. At that moment his phone starts ringing. Sam glances between it and the map. “No, don’t you dare put that map down,” Dean points to Sam and Sam grins. “Sam, don’t you dare,” Dean threatens, even though he is laughing as he watches Sam raise his eyebrows in challenge. The ringing persists as Sam’s grin grows and Dean hopes that for once his brother listens to him. He really does not want to waste more gas. Just as the call is about to end and Dean is about to let out a cheer of victory, Sam snatches the phone up and answers it. “Are you fucking kidding me?” Dean cries in disbelief. Sam smirks over to him as he greets Nick.

   “I’m in the car with Dean, so we’re going to have to keep it family friendly,” Sam says suavely and Dean throws him a look. Sam laughs at something that Nick says and Dean rolls his eyes.

   “Whipped!” He yells loudly so that Nick can hear it on the other end and Sam covers up his phone speaker.

   “Sorry, Dean is being dumb. What did you say?” Sam asks Nick as he flips Dean off. “Where am I going? I think we’re on our way down to Mexico right now, actually,” Sam says to spite his brother.

   “We’re supposed to be going to Utah,” Dean groans.

   Sam mouths for him to shut the fuck up.

   Everything feels normal for the first time in a long time and that’s how Dean knows everything is going to be alright. No matter what life throws at them, they will make it through. If the devil appears tomorrow with the apocalypse in tow, they will fight him with everything they have. Together.

   Dean’s slowly regaining trust in Sam. Even after all his mistakes, Dean is sure that their father was wrong about Sam. Sam is good.

  And for this upcoming battle Dean prays that Sam has his back.

 

* * *

 

    When Sam shows up on his doorstep for the first time Lucifer looks like a hot mess because he has just dragged himself out of the Indian Ocean where he was taking a dip off the coast of Seychelles.

    Lucifer had thought that having something that alerted him to Sam’s presence at the door would be useful, but he is quickly disliking this supernatural doorbell. He barely remembers to snap his fingers and dry himself off before he’s opening the door in a hurry. The ringing in his head stops as the sigil he created resets and he lets out a sigh of relief.

   “Hi?” Sam greets awkwardly.

   “Well I wasn’t expecting you. Long time no see,” Lucifer purrs as he leans against the door.

   “Yeah, sorry I tried to call but none of my calls were going through,” Sam shrugs, sheepish. “Can I come in?”

   Lucifer snorts. “Of course.”

   The apartment is still pretty barren, and it still isn’t actually Lucifer’s, but for whatever reason Lucifer hasn’t relocated yet. “When’s your lease up?” Sam asks as he follows Lucifer into the kitchen.

   “I’m not sure,” Lucifer shrugs, “How was the hunt? You were in Utah right?”

   “Yeah. Honestly it didn’t go great,” Sam looks away and licks his lips in a nervous gesture. Lucifer tilts his head because his vessel is upset about something. 

   "Hey…” He walks around the island to where Sam is sitting on the bar stool. Gently he touches Sam’s shoulder. Sam doesn’t flinch away so Lucifer runs his hand smoothly down Sam’s arm, stopping at his elbow. “What’s wrong?”

   Sam sighs and looks at Lucifer for a moment. “One of the people we were trying to help didn’t make it.”

   Lucifer gazes sadly at his vessel. He is such a warm soul, Lucifer almost feels bad for wanting to wipe out the humanity that Sam loves. Almost. “You can’t save them all Sam,” Lucifer whispers as he squeezes Sam’s shoulder in comfort.

   “I know, but I can try,” Sam replies faintly.

   “You can try,” Lucifer concedes. Sam can try but it won’t be enough. There is no changing the inevitable. But right now Lucifer does not want his vessel to mope so he searches Nick’s mind for things that help humans deal with loss. Alcohol is the first thing that pops up, and Lucifer really should not have expected anything else from a man who became an alcoholic after his family was murdered. “We can drink to that. Will whiskey make you feel better?” Lucifer asks as he pulls a bottle out thin air, but he makes it look like he takes it out of a drawer. Sam raises an eyebrow but reaches for the glass Lucifer slides over to him, and then he reaches for the bottle.

    Two hours later they are laying across the bed in the upstairs loft talking about their fathers. “Mine kicked me out,” Lucifer says to the ceiling since he is laying on his back. He glances over at Sam who is sitting up, wrapped in the blanket that they came up here for because Sam had gotten cold. “He didn’t even do it himself, he had my brother do it for him,” Lucifer chuckles. Sam wrinkles his nose, “What the fuck, why?”

   “Different ideologies, my father thinks he is always right. Likes to push his views on his children,” Lucifer gets out slowly and sits up. “So that’s how I got disowned.” He reaches for the bottle on the bedside table and takes a swig.

   “I mean, if it makes you feel any better, my dad told Dean that he should kill me if I turn evil,” Sam states with a shrug. Lucifer grins.

   “That’s pretty bad.”

   Sam smiles back and nods, “Yeah, it’s pretty bad.”

   Sam let’s go of the blanket to drink some of his own whiskey.

   “You know, at least Dean didn’t listen to your father. Michael didn’t even bat an eye. I had looked up to him before that. But, I guess that brotherly bond meant nothing to him over the praise of Father.” Lucifer drinks more as he catches Sam looking at him worriedly.

   “What are you drinking again?” He asks as Lucifer grimaces. Lucifer swirls the liquid around the bottle. He had gone out for a couple of minutes while Sam used the bathroom earlier to collect a special blend of ingredients that can make an archangel, for all intents and purposes, tipsy.

   “I don’t know, I think it has holy water in it though,” Lucifer mumbles as he puts down the half empty bottle. Sam stares.

   “What kind of alcohol has holy water in it?”

   “The heavenly kind?”

   Sam raises his eyebrows and downs the rest of his glass. Lucifer watches his adam’s apple bob as he swallows. He tilts forward a bit. “It’s your turn.”

   Sam tries to detangle himself from the blanket and almost falls of the bed as he says, “Oh, I ran away from home. Went to Stanford.” Lucifer bursts out laughing and Sam scowls at him. “What’s so funny?” He slurs as he plops back onto the bed.

   “You ran away to Stanford,” Lucifer is cracking up and tears are pricking at the corners of his eyes. Of course Sam’s rebellious act was wanting to do the most mundane normal thing like going to university. Sam pushes him and Lucifer ends up back on his back like he was earlier. “You have to admit it’s pretty funny that your dad was so hell bent on searching for a demon that he was upset when you got into Stanford,” Lucifer gets out through gasps. Sam’s shoulders are shaking and for a second Lucifer thinks he made his vessel upset, but then he sees that Sam is just trying to not laugh.

   “You’re the worst,” Sam smiles as he lays down next to Lucifer.

   “Maybe, but as long as you like it I find I don’t care,” Lucifer mutters, and okay wow he is a lot tipsier than anticipated. He rolls over onto his stomach, and stares at his vessel. “Am I more drunk than you?” Lucifer remarks as he takes in Sam’s somewhat composed appearance. He just looks tired. Hazel eyes meet his.

   “Maybe. You’re a very talkative drunk,” Sam drawls. He looks relaxed and receptive of touch so Lucifer runs his fingers through his vessels hair, pushing it away from his face. He’s been intrigued by the pliancy and warmth of Sam’s skin this whole night, has wanted to touch and prod. Lucifer runs a thumb over the cheekbone where he had last seen a bruise on. Sam’s eyelids drop shut and he lets out a soft breath.

   “It’s because I haven’t had someone to talk to in centuries Sam,” Lucifer whispers.

   “And you’re overdramatic,” Sam smiles fondly, eyelashes fluttering open again. Lucifer keeps running his hands over the expanse of Sam’s susceptible body, stopping to feel the pulse on his neck, hear the beating of his heart through his chest. Sam does not stop him so Lucifer just hums and settles on exploring with his fingertips, light as a feather and cold as ice, against Sam’s smooth skin.

  “What? Do you not have any good things to say about me?” Lucifer questions, glancing at Sam’s face in mock hurt.

  “You have pretty eyes.”

  “Obviously, I’ve always been the most attractive out of my siblings.”

  “You’re so full of yourself,” Sam laughs and Lucifer smiles faintly.

  “That’s not a compliment,” he chides. Sam studies him while he contemplates something. It’s an incredibly charming look on him and Lucifer does not know what to do with himself. “What are you doing?” He asks to fill the silence.

   “Thinking of a good enough compliment,” Sam mutters, eyes scanning Lucifer’s face.

   “Oh, do go on. I love a good compliment,” Lucifer divulges as he stretches out more on the bed, “Here I can go first, if you like?” Sam waves for him to go ahead. “You’re the only person I can stand.”

   “That’s not a compliment,” Sam says between laughs at Lucifer’s response.

   “Trust me. It is, especially since I actually enjoy your presence Sam Winchester.”

   They stay like that for a couple of minutes, Lucifer soaking up Sam’s warmth and Sam trying to decide what he wants to say. Lucifer rolls onto his back again. Everything is momentarily blurry and the light fixture above him seems blinding. He reaches a hand up toward it. If he squints he just sees the bright light. It reminds him of heaven. His voice is hoarse when he accidentally voices his thoughts out loud.

   “Why do we crave things we can’t have?”

   Sam turns onto his side, propping himself up on his elbow as he looks down at Lucifer. “I don’t know,” he whispers and Lucifer hums.

   “Have you figured out what you want to say yet?”

   “I’ve figured out what I want to do,” Sam replies.

   “Oh?” Lucifer is intrigued but can venture a guess at what Sam means.

   Sam’s heart is racing, he is leaning down and Lucifer is wrapping his arms around Sam’s neck before their lips even meet.

    Sam's lips are warm and cautious and perfect, and, if Lucifer is being honest with himself- and he can be while their lips are interlocked and the world is spinning in the background- kissing Sam feels like completion. Everything is just this side of hazy with this concoction flowing through his veins, his grace muted, and Sam's body slowly sinking down on top of him, pressing eagerly into the gaps between them. As Lucifer's simulated heartbeat picks up on its own accord he quickly realizes that he is indulging in something potentially dangerous. But the feel of Sam is making Lucifer shake and want to write hymns about his true vessel, and Lucifer doesn't think that he can stop now, not with Sam's hands on his hips and the feel of their breaths mixing in exertion, not when Sam is quietly asking if this is okay and all Lucifer does is lean up to capture his lips again. Lucifer cannot stop this, not even if he wanted to. 

    Later, when Lucifer is sinking his teeth into the soft flesh of Sam’s inner thigh, he mumbles something about prophecy and vessels but Sam isn't paying attention to him. He is paying attention to the bruises Lucifer is sucking into his skin, and all Lucifer wants is to map out all of Sam's erogenous zones, kiss his scars, wants to carry the taste of Sam in this borrowed mouth until he is granted more. Lucifer runs his cool fingers up Sam's stomach, racking up his shirt and Sam reads it as the sign it is, takes it off without hesitation. As soon as Sam is done pulling the fabric over his head and throwing it to the side Lucifer is pushing him back with a measured press of his palm against Sam’s chest. Sam obliges and Lucifer almost purrs with satisfaction at how good his vessel is being, knowing that Sam is not used to this- the slow steady pace, the undemanding leisurely way in which Lucifer explores him with his tongue. But this is exactly how Lucifer intends to treat his vessel. He is going to bend Sam to his will on this one thing, simply because Sam deserves to be treated like this. It is comparable to the veneration of a saint but without God's approval, Lucifer spoiling Sam with the glorification that he himself no longer receives but feels the need to give to something, to give to someone. And he will give it to Sam.

     There is a reverence in Lucifer’s gaze as his eyes roam across the planes of Sam's body. When he meets Sam's eye it is that look of devotion that makes Sam whine and fall apart. Everything is careful and unhurried, all of Lucifer's touches meant to prove something to the one being that is able to make him feel anything other than destruction. If Lucifer is being honest, and he can't escape the notion now that his inebriated self has brought it up, Sam might just be the one- the only one- that can bring the archangel on the wrong side of heaven and the righteous side of hell to his knees again. And isn't that a thought?

   Sam inhales sharply as Lucifer moves his left hand down, fingers glossy with unguent that he hopes Sam won't question the appearance of, trailing past Sam's abs. Sam tilts his head to kiss Lucifer again and Lucifer indulges him, likes the way Sam bites at his lower lip in need, likes the way Sam's arms squeeze around him as Lucifer groans into it, likes how Sam tries to push back against him in an attempt to get Lucifer to speed up his actions- he adores it really. Lucifer runs his other hand up along Sam's spine, up to the base of his neck, twisting Sam's hair around his fingers and gently dragging them down until Sam's throat is bared. Everything is still a bit fuzzy when Lucifer's lips move against the perspiration gathered in the juncture between Sam's shoulder and neck as he whispers praise into his true vessel's skin. Sam gasps at his words and opens his mouth in protest but the words splinter into a moan as Lucifer finally wraps his hand around Sam's length. All of Lucifer’s movements are gentle and calculated, even if he does feel a bit dizzy with this- the intensity of touch, the presence of holy water in his system buzzing underneath his skin, his grace howling for release. He ignores it all in favor of focusing on the hitch in Sam's breathing, fascinated by every one of Sam’s reactions. Lucifer mouths at Sam's pulse as he lets go of his cock and snakes his arms around his waist, fingers skating down Sam's backside. He can feel Sam lean back into the touch. Sam breaths out Lucifer’s false name in a hushed prayer as Lucifer fingers at his entrance. Sam’s back arches and Lucifer briefly situates himself so that he can lean down between them- grip on Sam’s waist firm, holding him in place. A single press of lips to Sam's right hip bone and then Lucifer is moving to repeat the action on Sam’s left side. It’s teasing, it’s worship, and Sam can’t stand it and Lucifer can tell.

    That night as Lucifer is leaning Sam back against the pillows and running his tongue over his vessel’s skin as he slowly pushes in, Lucifer thinks that this is as close to heaven as he has felt since his fall, and he swears that he just became Sam’s first religious experience.

 

 

* * *

 

     It is around nine p.m. and Sam is leaning against the Impala and holding a knife in one hand and his phone in the other. He’s waiting for Dean to check them out of the motel, but he has a feeling that it is taking longer than usual because of the pretty blonde girl at the front desk. Sam sighs as Nick repeats the same old excuse of his work being confidential in response to Sam’s question of what he is up to.

    “Oh come on, I always tell you about the hunts we are doing. The least you can do is tell me what kind of case you are working on… This is the first time I'm the one not holding any secrets in a relationship. I never know what you are doing,” Sam babbles and Nick clears his throat on the other end to make him stop.

   “Well currently I'm trying to refreeze the polar ice caps.”

   “Right, of course,” Sam huffs out in disbelief.

   “You don’t believe me? Suit yourself Winchester, but I'm telling you the world is dying because of humanity.”

    Sam rolls his eyes, “Well aren’t you the environmentalist.” Nick laughs and Sam’s heart skips a beat as he remembers why he called in the first place. “Nick… We're exclusive right?” And this is an awkward conversation Sam never thought he would have again after college.

    “Pardon?”

    “I just... We never talked about it. I don't know what we're doing here. I know we started off casual but if we're just friends with benefits or you're seeing someone else I'd like to know because I'm kind of emotionally invested already.” He is babbling again. Sam kind of wants to slap himself. The call goes quiet and Sam has to check to make sure he’s still connected. “Nick?”

    “Don't worry Sam. I'm only interested in you,” Nick finally replies and Sam can tell by his tone that he is incredibly pleased.

    “So, what does that make us?”

    “Soulmates? Two halves made whole? Made for each other?”

    Sam chuckles because Nick is ridiculous. “You’re cheesy.”

    “I’m just being honest,” comes his reply and Sam feels butterflies. “So are you swinging by my place again or should I pop in and pay you a visit myself?” Nick asks and Sam is reminded of the fact that the last time he saw Nick was last Monday.

    “We just found out about a new case, so I’m kind of wrapped up here…”

    “I’ll fly over there then.”

    “What happens when the FBI notices that you are using their resources for unauthorized travel?” As happy as Sam is that Nick can just drop in on hunts out of the blue, he is also very worried that the frequency of his trips will get him in trouble.

    “Don’t worry about that. I’ll always come when you call, Sam.” The sincerity in Nick’s tone should not throw Sam for a loop but it does. He smiles softly.

    “Thank you.” He hopes Nick can hear the sincerity in his voice too.

 

* * *

 

     Nick is trailing behind him, following him through the aisles as Sam rummages through the mythological section in the library. “You know what would be a great date idea Sam?” Nick whispers as Sam stops to skim through a book on dragons.

    “What?”

    “Anything other than a fucking library,” Nick hisses as he walks past him, but Sam manages to catch his lover by the wrist.

   “You like reading.”

   “I also like seeing you shirtless. Now guess which one I would rather be doing right now.”

   Sam rolls his eyes but he is smiling. “This isn’t a date. You’re supposed to be helping me with research for this hunt.”

   “Then why are we sneaking around trying to avoid Dean?”

   “Because Dean will get mad at me if he finds out.”

   “Finds out what? That you sent me your location so you can have a study buddy?” Nick broods and Sam throws him an exasperated look.

   “When he finds out that I’m working this case with a distraction.”

   “So which one do you want me to be? Study buddy or distraction?” Nick smirks and presses into Sam’s chest.

   “I need you to help me,” Sam pushes the book he is holding into Nick's hands and starts walking away. When he looks back Nick is staring down at the book and frowning. “Sorry,” Sam says, but both of them know he doesn't really mean it. If looking through a dusty old library is how he has to spend his time with Nick he does not mind, even if Nick is being an annoying brat about it. As long as Sam gets to see the other man.

   “You know I do have better things to do. I wouldn't have come if I had realized that you weren't going to pay attention to me,” Nick huffs and disappears to go to the far side of the library. Sam goes back to his search. When he has a decent stack of books tucked under his arm he decides it is time to go and look for Nick. He finds him in the very back of the building, standing in the classics aisle and holding up a thick book. When Sam comes up to him he looks up.

   “Better to reign in Hell than serve in Heaven.”

   “That's a famous quote,” Sam says slowly because for a split second he swears Nick looks out of place standing in front of him surrounded by falling apart books. He reaches for the book Nick is holding.

   “You should read it.”

   Sam stares at the title. “You want me to read a poem about Satan?”

   “What?” Nick leans up and whispers in Sam’s ear, his voice smooth and alluring, “Know thy enemy.”

   “You're a menace,” Sam admonishes as Nick softly and tantalizingly bites his earlobe, “You were supposed to be looking for things for the hunt.” Sam pushes away from Nick and puts _Paradise Lost_ back on the shelf. Nick frowns and crosses his arms. “Come on,” Sam prompts because he really needs to get on with his research. Nick just stands there, eyes throwing daggers in Sam's direction.

   “I'm bored,” Nick whines.

   “So you can spend hours tracing shapes on my back but you can't be bothered to read about dragons?”

   “They are boring creatures! All they do is live in caves, collect gold, and eat virgins. May I remind you that I'm here for you Sam, and I do not like being ignored.”

    Sam is grinning for some reason. “You are incredibly needy,” he teases and Nick scowls as Sam slowly backs him up against the bookshelf.

   “Take that back Winchester,” Nick warns because Sam is poking at his pride. Nick’s elbow knocks over a couple of books but neither of them notice. Sam closes the gap between them and Nick sighs into his mouth like this is what he has been waiting for all night.

   “Will you help me now?” Sam asks as he starts to pull away but Nick catches him, throws his arms around Sam’s neck and doesn't let him leave.

   “Maybe. If I have an incentive,” Nick says offhandedly as he follows Sam's lips with his eyes, looking for all the world like he is ready to ruin him. Sam leans back in, running his tongue over Nick's bottom lip and then slotting their lips together again. Nick is a tempter and Sam feels like he can't escape the hold Nick has on him. But as fingers tangle in Sam’s hair and Nick’s cold lips melt against his, Sam finds he really doesn’t give a damn.

   He finds that he doesn’t want to escape.

 

 

* * *

 

     As he looks down at Sam’s sleeping form, Lucifer is starting to think this wasn’t a good idea after all.

     He gets up off the bed and prepares to leave like usual. He always goes out when Sam is sleeping to spread his wings and release his grace but for some reason tonight he just wants to stay. Lucifer wants to stay pressed against Sam’s side, listening to the thrumming of his heart and his quiet breaths until the morning light cracks open the sky. He wants to pretend to be asleep as Sam wakes up, wants Sam to turn over and kiss his neck until Lucifer deems he’s been given enough attention. He wants to open his eyes to messy brown hair and a dimpled smile wishing him good morning as the sun shines through the window and catches on the green in Sam’s eyes. Wants to avoid Sam’s attempts at getting him to eat breakfast, like usual, just drinking a cup of tea as Sam sulks over his eggs because Lucifer never tries the food he cooks. Lucifer wants the upcoming morning to be like any other morning that gets to transpire in this apartment when Sam passes through Maine.

    But Lucifer has been letting himself have this relationship with Sam for the past 2 months, has been out of the cage for 2 months prior to that. He has started to need to heal the insides of the vessel he is occupying because it is supposed to be temporary. He is not supposed to be living in Nick's form. Lucifer has an apocalypse to start. He has horsemen to raise. And what has he been doing instead?

   He stares out the massive windows covering the wall of their living room. Of _the_ living room. Neither he nor Sam actually live here. He just needs to keep reminding himself of that. He needs to remind himself that this will not last. It is the middle of the night and Lucifer can clearly see the city lights twinkling in the distance. His fists clench. He has so much to prove. He cannot allow feelings for his own vessel to deter him. Lucifer reaches out slowly, pointer finger lightly tapping the glass in front of him. It shatters instantly, the whole window falling to his feet as if it is nothing more than broken ice. Lucifer watches, disinterested, and then snaps the glass back into place just as Sam’s head peeks over the edge of the loft.

   “What was that noise?”

   “What noise? You were probably dreaming,” Lucifer lies easily as Sam ambles down the stairs.

   “What are you doing up?” Sam asks.

    Lucifer does not answer. Sam goes to touch him but Lucifer bends away from it. He does not want his vessel to touch him right now. There is a burst of emotions from Sam but Lucifer does not care to comprehend them right now, and he doesn't really need to. With one glance at his face Lucifer can tell that Sam is hurt.

   “Is everything ok?”

   Lucifer ignores the question. “I could have chosen any number of places to stay,” he says instead. “But I chose this apartment. Do you know why?”

   Sam waits for him to go on.

   “Because of this,” Lucifer taps the glass in front of him, “because I'm plagued by constant claustrophobia and I need this now.” Lucifer’s shoulders sag but his eyes harden. It's pathetic and true, and Lucifer hates knowing that his imprisonment has done this to him.

   “I don't like feeling trapped Sam.”

   “Are you feeling trapped right now?” Sam asks quietly, talking about their relationship, and Lucifer is not even surprised that his vessel picked out his train of thought. Sam is good at reading him. Lucifer sighs. 

    He does not want to make Sam question their bond but this relationship is starting to hold Lucifer back and he does not like it. There are no choices to make here, but somehow Lucifer is finding himself caught between a rock and a hard place. He cannot avoid losing this thing they have created. He needs Sam to be his vessel. He can do so much for both of them. Built them a paradise. Give Sam something better than what this damned humanity has to offer. They can be one.

    But that would mean the loss of this. This dynamic of two separate bodies. The loss of fingers running down his sides, the taste and press of lips on his own. Lucifer won't be able fit his body against Sam like they are made for each other, won't be able to hold him. They will just be one.

   “Nick, say something,” Sam pleads.

   “What do you want me to say Sam?” Lucifer asks. He wants to know what Sam needs from him.

   “Say something, something like you love me.”

   It is a sudden request, Sam has not even mentioned his own feelings for Lucifer yet. But as Lucifer turns to his vessel he can pinpoint exactly why Sam sounds so worried now. He is scared. Scared of being alone.

   “I do,” Lucifer whispers and means it with every ounce of his being. The words, delicate as they are, shatter the silence that has fallen around them just like the window had previously. Arms envelope him. He can't avoid it, is too tired to. The warmth of Sam's body drowns everything out and quiets Lucifer's mind.

   “Come back to bed and we can talk more in the morning?” Sam mumbles into his shoulder. Lucifer kisses his cheek before pulling away and nodding. They climb back up the stairs and settle into bed, Sam with his arms wrapped around Lucifer’s torso, holding onto him tightly.

   As Sam falls back asleep Lucifer thinks that this is exactly where he went wrong, indulging in touch and the warmth Sam has to offer. He thinks that maybe it is better to take a break. Forget about this and refocus. Stay away from Sam and all the things he makes Lucifer want because, in the end, what Lucifer really wants is heaven on earth. There's only one way to achieve that.

  By the time sunlight is streaming into the apartment and Sam's eyelids are fluttering open Lucifer is half way across the world.

   That morning Sam wakes up alone.

 

* * *

 

     The next time Sam sees Nick is in Detroit.

     Sam and Dean are there to investigate a possible case, as they pull up to the alley with officers milling around and criminalists photographing the crime scene, Sam’s heart catches when among the chaos he spots Nick. He is wearing his usual suit and gazing off in the opposite direction. Sam’s heart races as they walk up to the man. He can’t tell if he wants to kiss or punch him. “You shouldn’t be here,” Nick says without even turning around, as if he can feel Sam’s presence behind him. Sam is definitely leaning towards punching him now.

    “Why?” He asks instead because he is not going to ask Nick where the hell he’s been. Mostly because Dean doesn’t know about what happened, and also because they are surrounded by strangers. A crime scene isn’t exactly the best place to have an argument about your relationship.

   “It’s not your kind of case,” Nick mumbles, looking down at the scattered remains which are covered by white sheets. He still won’t look at Sam.

   “Four people dead and one raving about winged demons. Sounds like our kind of case,” Dean points out as he kneels down and lifts the sheet off. He wrinkles his nose at the severed head underneath.

    “No, it’s… more along the lines of drug abuse and homicide than anything supernatural,” Nick finally turns to face them as Dean stands up. But he is focused on Dean and Sam really wants to punch him.

    “Okay, how about you tell us what you have so far and we can decide if there’s hunting to do,” Dean offers, looking a bit confused at the cold shoulder Nick was giving Sam.

    “We can meet at the coffee shop down the road. I’ll show you the case files, I just have to go grab them.”

    Dean nods slowly, “Alright… Let’s go Sam.” Nick turns and starts walking away from them and Sam really can’t have that right now, not when it feels like his heart is being ripped out of his chest and walked all over. Not when the only person other than his brother that he trusts with his life hasn’t even made eye contact with him after two weeks of radio silence. He grabs Nick’s arm and spins him around.

    “Nick, what the fuck?” Nick finally looks at him. His blue eyes showing no emotion.

    “What Sam?”

    Sam is this close to punching him. But he really can’t make a scene when they are surrounded by police. “What the hell is your problem?”

   “I have a lot of problems Sam, you’re going to have to be more specific.”

    “Your problem with me, you asshole!”

    It takes a minute for Nick to answer. “I care about you," he says, as if that’s a good answer. It’s not, Sam is just more confused and upset.

    “You have a funny way of showing it then, disappearing for two weeks! Where were you? And since when is caring for someone a problem?”

    “I… it’s complicated.”

    Sam scoffs at that, “Right, not like I ever get to know what you’re doing anyway.”

    Nick hisses at that in regret, “Sam, I promise I will tell you everything. I’m just… I’m sorry, can we just focus on this case?”

    Nick looks so tired and Sam really doesn’t like seeing him upset.

    “Fine, but we need to talk after, okay?”

    Sometimes Sam hates himself for being a selfless person. Nick nods and Sam lets him go, watching as he walks past all the personnel working and disappears around a corner. He joins Dean back in the impala.

    “What the hell was that?” Dean turns to his brother.

    “I honestly don’t know. We haven’t talked in two weeks,” Sam sighs, feeling disheartened.

    “What? I thought you guys were all buddy-buddy? You literally have not stopped texting and talking to each other since Maine. You always take off to his place as soon as we are near the fucking state. Not to mention the fact that, don’t think I haven’t noticed, you secretly meet up with him while we are working cases. So what happened?”

    “I don’t know Dean. He just disappeared one day.”

    “Well that explains why you’ve been so mopey lately. Did he tell you why?”

    “He said he’s going to,” Sam answers unsurely and Dean turns to him awkwardly patting him on the shoulder.

    “It’ll work out Sammy,” he says, trying to make Sam feel better. Sam mumbles a thanks. They park outside of the coffee shop. Once inside they order coffee and settle in to wait for Nick. About ten minutes pass and Nick pushes the front door open. They wave him over and he sits down across from Sam and Dean. He opens the file right away, taking out pictures of the crime scenes.

    “So these are the first two victims, both seemingly committed suicide by jumping from abandoned buildings. This is the third victim, who was actually murdered by the first two. The latest victim was brutally dismembered by…” Nick flips through the pictures that he has been pointing at, “This fine gentleman,” he puts down a photo of a man in a hospital gown. “He’s the one who’s been taken to a mental hospital. Here’s the confession that he wrote for the police before they arrested him for the murder. ” Nick slides a letter toward them.

    “I had to do it. If I didn’t the demons would take me. They would kill me if I didn’t fight…” Sam reads aloud and raises an eyebrow. “Did he say anything else about the demons?”

    “He said that there are six or seven of them, they have huge wings, talons, and glowing eyes. Also they are completely pitch black.”

    “And you don’t believe him?”

    “Obviously not. The working theory is that these people are a part of a cult and they’ve been brainwashed via some drug into killing each other.”

    “You think that sounds more realistic than demons?” Dean laughs.

    “Well have you ever seen something like this?”

    “No but apparently just because we haven’t seen it, doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist.”

     Nick rubs at his temples. Sam asks if he’s okay but gets shrugged off. “Don’t worry about me Sam. See this tattoo? Every one of the victims has one, right there on their wrist,” Nick points to the photos and Sam sees replicas of angel wings inked into each person’s skin. “That’s the connection. I have an address for the tattoo place, but I haven’t gone there yet.”

    “We’ll go with you,” Sam interjects. Nick either really believed that this is not a supernatural case or he is hiding something. In any case, they have to make sure the “winged demons” aren’t real.

    “I really don’t think you should be wasting your time,” Nick says, collecting the photos.

    “That’s for us to decide,” Sam bites back and Nick rolls his eyes.

    “Honestly Nick, hate to burst your little theory but this sounds like something we should be looking into,” Dean sides with Sam. They end up talking Nick into letting them work with him and go see the tattoo artist together. They go to a little tattoo parlor called “Inklings”. The walls are decorated in various pre-made tattoos, and are tinted a deep red. There are “no minors” signs along by the front desk and the rest of the space is mainly empty with scattered folding tables next to every artist’s bench. It smells like sanitizer and metal, and somewhere there is the faint hum of a machine going off. They talk to the tattoo artist and find out that the man who does the angel wing tattoos isn’t working today. He informs them however that another person just got the tattoo yesterday. “Is there an address or a phone number you can give us?” Sam asks the tattoo artist.

    “Sure thing, her name is Mary Williams and this is number she gave us,” the guy says, scribbling on a piece of paper and handing it to Sam. Sam hands the paper to Dean and they all exit the shop. They walk down the alley away from the tattoo place as Dean starts dialing the number.

    "Wait, are those sixes or fours? Oh, for fucks sake. I can’t read his handwriting, hold on,” Dean grumbles and takes off back to shop to presumably ask the guy what he wrote down.

    “Can you text me when you get an address?” Nick asks as they both watch Dean disappear around the corner. Sam turns to Nick, who is standing so close that their shoulders brush. Sam doesn’t even question him, knows by now that Nick doesn’t like riding in the Impala.

    “You’ll meet us there?”

    “Of course,” Nick smirks and Sam smiles at that because it shows that Nick is getting over this strange rift that has grown between them.

    “Ok, I’ll see you there,” Sam says and before he knows what he’s doing he’s leaning down and quickly kissing Nick’s cheek out of sheer habit. Nick freezes and Sam realizes what he’s done but he does not pull away. Instead he stays in Nick’s personal space. He stays still for a minute, gauging Nick’s reaction and debating what to do. He makes up his mind and sucks in a breath. He tilts his head down, moving his lips lower so that he’s slowly kissing along Nick’s jawline. He needs Nick to react, to either push him away or pull him closer. Sam needs to know if he still has this. If he still has Nick.

   “Sam,” Nick breaths out and Sam moves to kiss his neck. Nick doesn’t move, stays stoic, so Sam ignores him and bites down, frustrated that Nick isn’t reacting. “Sam,” Nick says again. This time it sounds like a warning. Sam leans back.

   “What?” He bites out and finally looks Nick in the eyes. Eyes which have gone dark with something that looks like hunger. Nick’s lips are taught, pulled into a straight line, and he looks like he’s trying to resist some great temptation. If Sam is the temptation than he can’t think of a single good reason Nick should be resisting acting on the need that’s written all over his face. Sam bites his lip and gets an idea. If Nick needs prodding… Sam says Nick’s name and Nick looks up from watching Sam’s lips. “Kiss me,” Sam says simply and Nick’s eyes narrow.

   “Excuse me—”

    Sam cuts him off and leans close enough that their breaths mix. “I said- kiss me.”

    Sam knows this will work. He is challenging Nick to do it, and Nick’s pride greatly outweighs his stubbornness. Sam watches as Nick’s eyes remain dark, something raging in the blues but Sam can tell Nick has figured out what he is trying to do.

    “You are a fool Sam Winchester,” Nick says gravely, and before Sam can question what that means Nick is letting go of whatever is holding him back and his lips are crashing into Sam’s.

     Nick kisses him like it’s his life line, like he needs Sam more than he needs air, and Sam gives back as good as he gets. Nick has both hands running through Sam’s hair, tugging him closer and Sam pulls him in by the waist until they are standing flush against each other in this alley in the middle of Detroit. But it’s not enough, so Sam spins them around so that Nick is the one closer to the wall and starts walking them backwards. Nick lets Sam press him against the wall but bites Sam’s lip harshly in a warning for Sam to not get too handsy. Sam rolls his eyes as he pulls off for a breath. “You know it’s a bit ridiculous that you are so prideful that you won’t let me manhandle you.”

    Nick looks offended. “Oh, shut up,” he says as he pulls Sam back in again. Nick’s stubble scrapes against his skin and his lips are as cold as ever and god Sam missed this. Nick stops and mutters something against his lips but Sam ignores him, running his tongue along Nick’s lower lip. Nick sighs into his mouth and gives into Sam’s demand.

    “Guys, I do not need to see this! STOP ALREADY!”

     Sam stops and rolls his eyes. Nick laughs, “I told you Dean’s back.”

    “I obviously didn’t hear you,” Sam smiles as he steps back and Nick pushes himself off the building.

    “Do you guys not have any shame?” Dean asks, bewildered.

    “You took a long time, we got bored, had to entertain ourselves somehow,” Nick smirks back and Sam bursts out laughing at the lie. Dean groans and Sam just grins. His brother glares at him and Sam mouths sorry, but he’s really not.

    Dean explains that he called Mary and after arranging to meet her he got directions on how to get to the building from the tattoo guy. After obtaining the address Nick leaves with a wink at Sam. Sam’s smile hasn’t left his face, even as Dean keeps whining to him in the car about the PDA. Nick obviously still liked him, and with that knowledge Sam could wait till this case is solved to question Nick on his absence. For once, he has a very good feeling about this.

 

* * *

 

     Lucifer has a very bad feeling about this. Not only had Sam easily seen through him and broken his resolve to put some distance between them, but it appears they are entering dangerous territory. “Are you sure this is the right place Dean?” Sam asks his brother as they all stare at building which looks like it’s about to fall apart. They are in one of the parts of Detroit which were hit the worst during the city’s economic downfall so they are surrounded on all sides with abandoned buildings, their roofs caved in and their walls covered in graffiti. The building in front of them was probably impressive once but now it was eleven stories of crumbling brick and broken windows. Dean nods and swears that this is correct.

    “Sam, I don’t think this is a good idea,” Lucifer says warily as he steps into the building alongside his vessel. He sticks close to Sam as they make their way through the garbage strewn across the first floor. Lucifer can feel something above them. He cannot place what the power he senses reminds him of, it has been a really long time since he has been around anything that didn’t resemble a Winchester, an angel, or a demon. Either way it sets Lucifer on edge and he really does not want Sam to get tangled up in something that he can’t handle, especially since Lucifer already has his suspicions about who the being behind these murders is. If he turns out to be right and the thing above him is what he thinks it is than Sam definitely should not be here. “Sam, listen to me. I’m serious, I think we should go,” Lucifer pleads as he reaches for Sam’s arm to stop him from walking up the stairs to the second floor.

    “Is the spooky building getting to you Nick?” Dean yells from the top.

    “I’m not scared, I’m worried that you are doing something stupid,” Lucifer yells back, very irritated with the older Winchester.

    “We’re just looking for the girl, we’ll be fine,” Sam tells him and pulls him along up the steps. Scratch that, he is irritated with Sam too. Not only is he a fool for tempting the devil, he is also a fool who did not listen to him apparently. Lucifer broods about his slip up earlier. He had not expected to act to recklessly but Sam had been so determined to completely undermine the two weeks that Lucifer had tried to keep his distance. Lucifer has grown attached to Sam, but that was okay, he had foreseen that, had hoped even that he would get to bring Sam along for the ride after he says yes. The problem stemmed from the fact that Lucifer has grown too attached to their dynamic as two separate people. Their relationship was a comfort and Lucifer hadn’t realized how much he would enjoy the physical aspect of it. If Sam only knew how much he had missed the taste of him, the warmth of his body shifting against his own… Lucifer breaks out of his wanderings as a scream reverbs above them. It is coming from the top floors and the Winchester’s can’t hear it yet but Lucifer can already make out that it is a female pleading for her life. Dean and Sam are calling out Mary’s name as they walk through the empty hallways and the sound echoes around them. “Where the hell is she?” Dean says.

    “Should we keep going up?” Sam asks and Dean nods. They have to jump over a gap in the stairs where the cement has concaved to reach the third floor. They are getting closer so Lucifer decides to check if the humans can hear what he is hearing.

    “Do you hear that?”

     Sam and Dean both stop and look around, listening in silence. All of the sudden something crashes into the building above them and they all turn to witness bricks falling to the ground from the floors above them. “What the hell was that?” Dean yells and starts to hurry, climbing the stairs two at a time. They are finally close enough for the Winchester’s to catch the echoing shrieks coming from above.

   “No! Leave me alone! I won’t do it!”

   “That must be Mary.” Dean and Sam run up the last flight of stairs to the eleventh floor to save the girl as dread settles in Lucifer’s chest. They race down the corridor toward the sound, guns drawn and adrenaline pumping. Dean and Sam abruptly stop in front of an open room and Lucifer glances in. Half of the wall is gone, as if someone has taken a wrecking ball to it. Bricks lie scattered throughout the room that no longer has any flooring, just bare cement, even the wall paint has flaked off. In the middle of the room sits a woman holding her head in her hands and crying. “Mary Williams?” Sam tries to gently get her attention, warily pointing the gun toward her figure just in case.

    She turns at the sound of her name, “Their coming for me. I can hear them.” She breaks down again, sobbing, “I don’t want to die. Please help me!”

    Lucifer watches as Sam kneels down next to her, “Hey, look at me, it's ok. We’re here to help.”

   “What’s coming for you Mary?” Dean asks, tone tense and gun still in his hand.

    “The angels, they want me to kill for them.”

    Sam and Dean exchange a glance at the mention of angels and Lucifer has to try and keep his facial expression neutral even though he is finding this to be quite amusing. Right, as if angels don’t have better things to do.

    Suddenly Mary clutches her head and screams. The sound bounces off the walls and reverbs down the empty hallway. Sam is calling out her name and shaking her by the shoulders. “I don’t want to do it!” She screams at the voices in her head. A monstrous screech answers in return and any amusement Lucifer felt at the situation is gone. The power Lucifer had felt before is back and Lucifer’s hackles rise. “Dean,” Sam calls out as both the Winchesters look around in horror for the source of the sound.

    “Okay, we have to get her out of here,” Dean helps Mary up but it’s too late.

    “It’s here,” she whispers, terrified. Lucifer’s instincts kick in and he bares his teeth. His wings unfold of their own accord, invisible to all the humans in the room. Everything about Lucifer screams threat, from the intimidating arc of his wings to his cold and calculating gaze. Another screech rings out and then the thing is landing through the hole in the wall. It’s larger than an average human, around 7 ft. tall and covered in feathers the color of the darkest night. It is human shaped, with bulging muscles and large talons instead of feet. It has no nose, just slits for nostrils and glowing yellow eyes. It beats its enormous black wings against the building and bricks crumble around it. Lucifer growls in disgust. Valkyrie. Why does he always have to be right?

    “What is that thing?” Sam yells but Lucifer can’t tell him. He goes to reach for his vessel, needs to situate himself so that his wing covers Sam, so that the Valkyrie knows he is under his protection. In that moment the monster lunges forward and grabs Mary out of Dean’s hold and she screams. She is being dragged backwards towards the edge, the Valkyrie’s talons digging into her scrawny arms. “Dean, we have to do something!” Sam points his gun at the thing. Both he and Dean fire, aiming for its wings, and it shrieks but the bullets do no real damage. They do however distract the Valkyrie long enough for Sam to pull Mary out of its grasp. Mary stumbles forward and Dean catches her. Lucifer glares. Sam is too close to the thing. Sam keeps shooting, point blank, and backs the Valkyrie out of the room until it is tripping backwards and falling off the edge. Lucifer does not relax his stance, the Valkyrie is still somewhere out there. Sam turns around, looking winded but unharmed. Mary continues sobbing and clinging onto Dean. “This is definitely our kind of case,” Sam lets out finally and starts back to the center of the room. Just as he takes a step forward away from the edge there is the sound of wings beating behind him.

     Without warning talons close around Sam’s shoulders and suddenly he is being yanked backwards over the edge, propelled into the air. For a split second as he is being pulled backwards Lucifer and Sam make eye contact and time seems to slow down. Sam’s eyes widen as he processes what is about to happened, and then the Valkyrie pushes off the building and drops him, and Sam is plummeting downwards, falling off the eleven story building. Dean screams out his brother’s name in shock.

    Instantly Lucifer is plunging after him. Wind rips at his wings as he projects himself forward and then he is wrapping an arm around Sam’s waist and surging upwards, gripping tightly. Dean stares in shock as Lucifer appears before him, Sam in tow. Lucifer leans against Sam for a moment, breath coming out in quick, short gasps from the sudden exertion. “Nick?” Sam stares at him in confusion, still astounded that one second he was falling to his death and the next he was back in the room with them. Lucifer can’t feel the presence of the Valkyrie anymore so he lets his wings droop as they start cramping from the sudden abuse. He really needed a message. And maybe for his vessel to stop getting into trouble. It would be such a pain if something happens and Lucifer isn’t there. Bringing someone back from the dead is not exactly the easiest thing, no matter how simple the Winchester’s made it seem.

   Lucifer focuses back on Sam, “Are you hurt?” But Sam is backing away from him, and that is when Lucifer hears it, the click of Dean reloading his gun.

   “He’s not human, Sammy,” Dean says gravely. Sam’s heart is racing. Disbelief and confusion written all over his face.

   “What? Dean don’t point your gun at him!”

   “He just fucking teleported Sam!” Dean yells and cocks his gun at Lucifer, “You tell me that’s normal!”

    Sam looks like he is about to protest, but then he turns to Lucifer, betrayal creeping into his eyes.

    “Sam,” Lucifer sighs, because this is not exactly the way he wanted to go about this. But he supposes there is really no better time to tell Sam the truth. As he takes a step towards his vessel Sam backs away.

    “Don’t fucking move or else I will shoot you,” Dean threatens and Lucifer rolls his eyes.

    “Shoot me. It won’t do anything.”

    “What are you?” Sam says, voice weak.

    “I think you can guess,” Lucifer smiles sadly, “Sam, I need to talk to you. Come with me.”

    “I’m not going anywhere with you,” Sam’s voice is barely above a whisper as he stares at Lucifer like he just killed a whole town of people, women and children first.

    “I’m afraid that this once, you don’t have a choice,” Lucifer pitches his voice to sympathy so as to not scare Sam more.

    “Don’t,” Dean warns but Lucifer ignores him and strides toward Sam. A gunshot rings out and Mary screams again. Lucifer winces as the bullet rips through him.

    “Nick!” Sam cry’s out and rushes to Lucifer, hands already pressing against his chest to stop the bleeding. But as Sam looks up and sees that Lucifer is unperturbed the blood drains from his face. “You’re really…”

    Lucifer’s eyes soften and he leans forward pressing the gentlest kiss to Sam’s forehead, mumbling “I’m sorry Sam but it had to happen like this…”

    And then, with a rustle of feathers, they are gone.

 

* * *

 

    When Sam wakes up he does not know where he is. He opens his eyes and sees an alarm clock and a bible, so he assumes he is in some motel room. There is a soft blanket draped over him and as Sam gets up he tugs it around his shoulders because he’s grown numb with cold. He sees Nick sitting on the windowsill on the other side of the room. Passed him Sam can see that it is snowing outside. Nick blows and frost blooms across the glass. “Sorry if it’s a bit chilly, most people think I burn hot. It’s actually quite the opposite,” Nick opens as he draws a pitchfork through the frost. Sam stays silent and Nick sighs. “Ever hear the story of how I fell from grace?” He says quietly, not turning towards Sam.

   “Nick —”

   He cuts Sam off.

   “You know that isn’t my name Sam.”

    Sam’s heart stutters as he is reminded that has been tricked by the very being he feared would end the world thanks to him. Sam takes in a shaky breath. “Lucifer, let me go.” His voice is hoarse. The air shifts in the room between them, as if at the mention of the name there is a power surge. The smell of ozone and rust from their first meeting months ago is back, but this time Sam is able to place what it reminds him of. It reminds him of blood. His eyes start to sting and he falls backwards onto the bed so that Lucifer can’t see his face. Lucifer ignores him, bright blue eyes trained solely on the spreading frost. His presence is suddenly so obviously unearthly and Sam wonders how he missed it before. 

    “You know why God cast me down? Because I loved him, more than anything. And then god created, you,” Lucifer pauses to draw a stick figure, “the little hairless apes. And then he asked all of us to bow down before you, to love you more than him. And I said father I can’t- these human beings are flawed, murderous…” Lucifer grows silent for a couple minutes. “And for that god had Michael cast me into hell. Now tell me Sam, does the punishment fit the crime? Especially if I was right. Look what six billion of you have done to God’s last perfect creation, taking all of earth’s beauty for granted, and how many of you blame me for it.”

    Sam bites his lip hard, trying to not make a sound as he tears up. He screws his eyes shut and screams internally, willing for all of this to be some kind of sick joke. But he knows it’s not, his life is never that simple apparently, so he just tries to even out his breathing, taking all the time he needs. Sam knows Lucifer won’t hurt him, so he’s not scared when he feels the bed dip beside him as Lucifer sits down, just revolted. Sam sits back up, and this time he’s the one avoiding eye contact. “Whether I think the punishment fits the crime- that doesn’t matter Lucifer...” Sam stops himself because he’s getting dangerously close with sympathizing for the devil.

    “It matters Sam. It matters to me.”

    Somewhere, hidden deep, deep down, Sam feels like Lucifer was treated unfairly and had he been treated differently he would not want to destroy humanity. But that does not matter, Lucifer preaches apocalypse now and nothing could change his mind. Not when he will never admit that he is wrong. They sit there in silence again before Sam finally turns to look at him. “What do you want with me?”

   “Thanks to you I walk the earth. I want to give you a gift. I want to give you everything,” Lucifer states, shrugging slightly.

   “I don’t want anything from you,” Sam replies harshly. He doesn’t need anything from the one that manipulated him. Lucifer sighs and looks down.

   “Sam… My heart breaks for you. The weight on your shoulders, what you’ve done, what you still have to do. It is more than anyone can bear. If there was some other way… but there isn’t.”

    Sam stills at that. What is Lucifer talking about? Lucifer gives him a pitying look and it unsettles Sam. “Lucifer… Why have you not started the apocalypse yet? Why are you wasting your time with me?” Lucifer stares at Sam, like he’s trying to figure out the best way to tell him some awful news. Sam braces himself.

   “I’m afraid there’s no way around it. You’re the one Sam.”

   Sam stares in horror at the words that come out of his mouth.

   “You’re my vessel. My one true vessel.”

    “What?” Sam stammers out.

   “Nick here is just an improvisation. Plan B at best. Can barely contain me without spontaneously combusting if I expend too much grace. I need you to let me in Sam. I need you to be able to use all of my power.”

   The betrayal Sam feels pierces straight through him, as if Lucifer has just taken a dagger to his heart. Anger surges in Sam at the implications of what this means. Lucifer has played him like a fool. He did not want Sam, he literally just wanted Sam’s body. Sam is such an idiot, of course his whole relationship with Nick was a sham. Sam clenches his jaw and his nails bite into his palms as he grits out, “Why did you do this?” Lucifer knows exactly what he’s referencing. Sam is talking about all those nights spent talking on the phone, every secret meetup Dean didn’t know about, getting used to being able to come back to someone, the apartment in Maine, the fucking _sex_.

   Lucifer looks away and Sam breaks. “You fucking bastard! Answer me!” Sam yells, getting up to gain a height advantage.

   “I’m so sorry Sam. I really am. The only reason I lied to you is because I needed you to not fear me. I needed you to get to know me without title of 'The Devil' hanging over my head,” Lucifer pauses and his lips curve up into a small smile, “granted, we did do a little more than getting to know each other.”

   And that’s when Sam punches him. Punches him so hard that his whole arm aches but he doesn’t stop. Swings another fist straight into Lucifer’s jaw. Lucifer doesn’t react, doesn’t even bat an eye as his nose bleeds and his lip swells. The longer Lucifer doesn’t react the more Sam wants to throttle him. “And how was that supposed to help you?” Sam huffs as he gives up, his knuckles bloody and raw. Sam laughs hollowly as he considers Lucifer’s possible plans. “Or did you just assume that if you can get me beneath you, you can use my body anyway you see fit? That if I let you fuck me I would definitely let you use me as a vessel?” Sam says, voice biting and cruel. Half of the cruelty is actually directed at himself, self-hatred flaring as he realizes that he’s made the same mistake twice. “I bet you and Ruby were great pals. Master manipulators, really, hats off to you! I fell for it! Lucifer, do you hear me? I fell for it! I fucking fell in l—”

   Sam stops because he cannot say what he was about to say. His lip wobbles as he attempts to stop the tears threatening to spill down his face. But it hurts. “Was any of it real?” He asks, something like a plea. He can’t imagine that the fondness in Lucifer’s voice in those quiet moments on the couch, or the reverence in Lucifer’s gaze when Sam’s pliant and panting, is all a farce. To toy with Sam in the daylight is one thing, to worship him in the bedroom is another entirely. But Sam really shouldn’t be thinking about the exaltation he received from Lucifer’s company, it probably doesn’t take much for the devil to think of you as holy.

   “The only thing that wasn’t real is the badge and the name Sam,” Lucifer looks sad as he reaches for Sam as if to comfort him.

   “Don’t you fucking dare,” Sam recoils, “You aren’t allowed to touch me anymore.”

   “You have to understand that I didn’t mean for this to happen. Yes, I did disguise myself. The hatred that my name brings amongst you humans, I couldn’t have you reject me from the start. Not when you were promised to me millennia ago. I’ve been waiting for you for a long, long time. Come on Sam you have to admit, you can feel it.”

   “What?” Sam asks, but he knows exactly what the devil is talking about. Lucifer crosses his arms over his chest.

   “The exhilaration that you feel when my grace expands, the connection between us, how easy it is to understand one another. We were acting like we’ve known each other a lifetime since the first day. Imagine the feeling when our hands met for the first time. That’s how it would be if I was to kiss you right now. I’m no longer hiding my powers Sam. You would feel my grace, taste it on my tongue. Multiply that feeling by a thousand and that’s how it would always be if we were in one vessel. And you know why that is? Because we are two halves made whole.” Lucifer’s voice tilts up as he adds: “M.F.E.O. Literally.”

   “I wasn’t kidding when I said it then Sam and I’m not lying to you now. This between us,” he gestures with one hand to Sam and then to himself, “it’s not because of me playing some role. It happened because it is meant to happen. Even I didn’t expect the romantic nature of our connection.”

   “Why me?”

    Lucifer gives him a look of sympathy.

   “Cause it had to be you Sam. It always had to be you.” Sam doesn’t know if he can believe the one who caused the fall of man. “I’m done tricking you Sam,” Lucifer replies in response to Sam’s hesitation. Sam looks unsurely at him and Lucifer sighs. “The night I left I realized that I, like you, have repeated the same mistake twice. I can’t let love lead to my downfall again. I need to get to the end goal here. I have a one-way ticket to the apocalypse, and as much as I have come to crave your presence and touch… I know that when my grace inhabits the same vessel as your soul, that is when we will feel truly whole. I need you to say yes.”

    Sam shakes as his anger re-appears. How could Lucifer even think Sam would be willing to participate in the end of his own race? “You need my consent?” Sam lets out a breath of relief but his fists don’t loosen. Lucifer seems offended and his arms re-cross.

   “Of course. I’m an angel,” pride tints Lucifer’s voice. Sam looks him straight in the eye.

   “I’d rather die.”

   Lucifer rolls his eyes again and shakes his head in annoyance, “and I’ll just bring you back.”

   Sam shakes as his one way out is ripped from him. He doesn’t trust himself, not when he’s already screwed up so much. “You will say yes to me, if not now, then soon,” Lucifer says simply, as if it’s a fact.

   “No, that will never happen,” Sam yells at him and runs for the door. When he throws it open there’s nothing there, just darkness. Sam whips his head around as Lucifer walks up behind him.

   “We’re in your head, Sam. Figured it was the best place to go. This way you actually have to stay and listen,” Lucifer’s voice is eerie as he explains and glances disinterestedly over Sam’s shoulder.

   “You’re in my head?” Lucifer nods and that’s the last straw for Sam. He did not want Lucifer anywhere near him. “Get out,” he whispers. Lucifer doesn’t move. Sam glares at him. “I said get out! Get out of my head and don’t come near me ever again,” Sam yells. Lucifer steps back, the look on his face finally setting into something more human, something like shock. Sam continues yelling.

  “I fucking hate you! Leave and don’t come back. Lucifer- I’m telling you I want you out now,” Sam orders. Sam can see the pain in Lucifer’s eyes but doesn’t feel bad for putting it there. Lucifer’s presence in the room spikes once, and then he’s gone, leaving Sam free to cry his eyes out until he wakes up for real.

 

* * *

 

     Dean leaves. Sam should have expected it. They get into a fight as soon as they meet. He doesn’t sympathize with Sam, just throws accusations in his face. They both say things that they are going to regret, but that does not change the fact that by the end of their fight Sam feels betrayed not only by Lucifer but also by his brother. How did Dean expect him to know who Nick really was? But Dean just throws all of Sam’s mistakes in his face, always ready to use the past against him.

    “Well at least I’m not the one who let the devil out and then fell in love with him,” Dean yelled before he slammed the door and Sam felt like he was being torn apart. Now with Dean gone Sam feels lost, and so he decides to work through all the pain. He goes back to the tattoo parlor and meets the artist who does the wing tattoos. The guy tells him that it’s the symbol of the Valkyrie, chooser of the slain. They reward the winner of battles by granting that he lives while taking the dead with them to the afterlife. When Sam asks where the idea for the symbol came from the tattoo artist tells him he saw it carved into the old wall of the old train station. That is going to be Sam’s next destination. Sam steps out into the street and looks up. It's been raining in Detroit since he kicked Lucifer out of his head. He walks down the same alley way where they had all been the day before but it feels like it's been a lifetime because everything has changed. Dean still hasn't answered any of his calls.

    Sam is alone again, and then he isn't. Now that Lucifer isn't hiding his grace from Sam their connection is strong enough that Sam doesn't hear Lucifer land as much as he feels his presence appear behind him. “Fuck off,” Sam hisses without turning around.

    “What are you going to do?”

   “I'm going to finish the job.”

   “It's too dangerous.”

   Sam stop walking. Since Lucifer was here he might as well get some information out of him. “Tell me what you know.”

   Lucifer sighs but complies because Sam is actually standing there and engaging him. “Valkyrie only engage with those who are marked for them, in this case we have the tattoo. They usually put the “contestants” against each other until someone gets killed. If nobody dies, then they kill them themselves. Valkyrie are just collecting souls for Odin. All the pagan gods are a disgrace though, trying to imitate God’s glory. Valkyrie are by design just cheap knock-offs of angels in a sense.”

   “So how do I kill them then?”

   Lucifer hums in thought behind him. “There's no one trick way to do it. There's no silver bullet or steak to the heart method. You have to fight them to the death. You obviously can't do that.”

   “Watch me. Actually, better yet, don’t. I told you to leave me alone. Don't follow me.”

   “I can't let you get hurt.”

   “Oh does it bother you? Don't like when others break your toys? Don't want your meat suit looking beat up before the grand finale?” Sam sneers as he spins around to face the devil. Lucifer rolls his eyes as if Sam is being melodramatic.

   “You know perfectly well the only bruises I’ll allow are the ones I leave on you.”

   A few days ago Sam would have appreciated the flirtation, now it just pisses him off.

   “I'm not something you can mark your claim on. I don't belong to you.”

   “I beg to differ. You are mine as much as I am yours Sam, nothing can change that.”

   “I don't want to have anything to do with you!”

   “I'm not going to sit by as you go on a suicide mission,” Lucifer is finally getting frustrated. Sam gives him the world’s fakest smile just to rile him up more.

   “It's ok, you'll just bring me back to life anyway right! Now fuck off,” Sam snarks. With a scowl, Lucifer disappears.

   Sam feels like punching a wall.

 

* * *

 

    That evening Sam is packing up, getting ready to go and attempt to finish the hunt. Without Dean. It feels like a risk and Lucifer’s warnings are still ringing through his ears. But Sam is nothing if not stubborn, and he is feeling especially reckless tonight. His blood has been boiling since his run in with Lucifer earlier in the day. He is obviously upset with Lucifer, but he's also angry with himself because no matter how much he wants to hate Lucifer he can't. Sam will never admit it out loud but he knows what Lucifer said is the truth. The devil Sam knows is there. He can see it in Lucifer’s gestures, hear it in their conversations. Sam is trapped because he doesn't even get to grieve over the loss of the man he’s come to care for because he’s not gone. He is still right there in front of him. Lucifer had not faked his personality- just his name, and Sam doesn't know what to do with himself now that he understands that. The talk of destiny and destruction is coming from the same being who flirted shamelessly with him, who brushed Sam's hair away when it fell in his face, whose eyes crinkled with pride when Sam made headway on a case, who enjoyed reading satire too much, and who laughed during the scary scenes in horror movies. Sam can't just erase all these memories. They are haunting him as he moves through the room and honestly… he feels like he is falling apart. Maybe that is why he’s being hasty in his decision to go. He needs something that feels a bit like normalcy. If he doesn’t have hunting, he doesn’t have anything.

   “You have me.”

    Sam doesn’t even react as Lucifer appears behind him, just keeps cleaning his gun.

   “You are really bad at listening to other people aren’t you? I told you to leave me alone.”

   “If I was good at listening to other people I would still be in heaven and you wouldn't exist.”

   Sam’s skin tingles as Lucifer walks closer. It’s annoying how much Lucifer affects him and it’s even more frustrating that it doesn’t feel bad.

   “You are not going alone. I don’t care how much you don’t want to see me, I do not want to find you lying scattered in pieces out there,” Lucifer says this with such rancor that Sam is momentarily taken aback. He really does not want Sam to go.

    But Sam really is feeling careless tonight. He reaches for the knife on the desk and taps the book next to it. It is open to the angel banishing symbol. Lucifer narrows his eyes, “You wouldn’t.” Sam presses the knife into his palm and then, suddenly, it is thrown from his hands to the other side of the room. “I told you, I am not going anywhere," Lucifer says slowly, and Sam realizes that this is the first time Lucifer has used a threatening tone toward him. Sam silently shakes in fury because this power imbalance between them is not fair. They stand there staring each other down, both stubborn to no end.

    The animosity between them grows and Sam feels the memories he had been reminiscing about earlier get buried beneath it. Sam’s relationship with “Nick” never felt like this. This is something entirely different. Sam knows exactly what this is. The energy between them is full of tension, like a string about to snap. One wrong move and they will both explode. Its rage and lust mixing together, hunger clawing at them both. Lucifer is right, they are very similar.

   There’s an itch under Sam’s skin. It reminds him of how he felt on demon blood, except this time he is definitely not under the influence.

   He takes a step toward Lucifer even though he knows that it won’t intimidate him. Lucifer looks like he is about set this whole room ablaze if Sam makes a wrong move. Sam kind of wants to watch it all burn down. He glances at the knife. Lucifer notices and with a wave of his hand it disappears. Sam balls his hands into fists. “I hate repeating myself,” Lucifer says, annoyed. It’s good that he is annoyed with Sam. It means they are both getting on each other’s nerves. The buzz in Sam’s veins won’t go away.

   “Screw you,” Sam grits out through clenched teeth. They are both so on edge, something is bound to give. Lucifer has the audacity to laugh.

   “Oh, you fucking wish,” he sneers and snaps the metaphorical string.

    It’s like watching a car crash. Sam slams Lucifer into the wall so hard the mirror falls off and shatters to pieces. Sam grabs at Lucifer’s wrists and pins them above his head as the devil growls at him and Sam is crashing his lips against Lucifer’s before the other can say a word. It’s a rash action, based purely on impulse, and Sam groans into it as Lucifer slides his tongue over his teeth. Screw the consequences. He’s already laid with the devil, one more time won’t change anything. It’s messy and aggressive and they kiss as though they are trying to devour each other. It’s not tender and Sam doesn’t want it to be. He just wants to take and take. Sam wants to split Lucifer open and taste the desire running through him, wants to tear at him until he breaks and ruin his pride. He shoves at Lucifer again as the man under him fights his hold and turns his head. Sam’s lips slide against his cheek from the motion and he ends up breathing heavily into Lucifer’s ear. Sam feels Lucifer pushing at his hold on him in warning. Sam grabs him by the chin with one hand and forcibly turns his head back to look him straight in the eye. Lucifer is not getting the upper-hand, no matter how much he wants it. “Don’t you fucking dare,” Sam snarls. Sam wants this to hurt Lucifer, wants to skin him with his tongue and taste the archangel hiding in the human flesh, can already feel their connection electrifying the air around them. Lucifer looks pissed and as Sam drags his thumb across Lucifer’s bottom lip he bites his finger. Sam drops his hold on Lucifer’s face and grabs a fistful of blonde locks and tugs in retaliation. Lucifer’s head hits the wall hard as it is yanked backwards and Lucifer gasps. Sam’s greedy as he covers Lucifer’s open mouth with his own. Lucifer’s eyelids drop closed as Sam licks into his mouth, chasing the power he finds there. He pulls off to push Lucifer towards the bed. Lucifer’s eyes brim with disdain at the treatment but Sam can tell that he’s taken the hint that he either swallows his pride or Sam leaves. They tear at each other’s clothes until they are both naked and panting, and then Sam is grabbing Lucifer’s wrists again as their cocks slide together. Sam feels like he’s burning and the only salve is Lucifer’s skin.

    And it’s so different from the previous times. There’s no praise or hushed whispers. Lucifer doesn’t even say a word, not until Sam is slicking himself up and pushing inside him, only then is Lucifer hissing his name into his ear. It’s an angry demand meant to tell Sam that if he doesn’t fuck him hard, he shouldn’t be fucking him at all. But Sam knows how to do this, has had rough fast-paced sex with his onenight stands, with Ruby. His muscles quiver and sweat drips down his back as he fucks into the devil. Lucifer leaves scratches down his back and Sam leaves bruises on his hips and for once Sam feels like he’s not the only one coming apart. Lucifer is naked and breathless beneath him and Sam wonders how either of them will live with this disgrace when it is over, Lucifer with his bruised pride and Sam knowing now how good it feels to have the devil wrapped around him. Will it be impossible to resist him now? Sam pushes harder, pressing in as far as he can go so that Lucifer whines- and Sam is going to hell for this, isn’t he? He can feel the sin etch itself into him with every gasp from Lucifer, can feel it in every thrust. But Lucifer tastes like something sacrilegious and holy all at once, as if heaven and hell can’t decide to what side he belongs to, and Sam feels like he is defiling something divine. He thinks back to the sex they have had, how it felt like Lucifer was always building Sam up, and how now Sam is doing the opposite of that, Sam is breaking Lucifer down. Lucifer winces from the pain of Sam slamming into him without any preparation, but Sam knows he doesn’t really mind, will heal himself if he really has to. The headboard hits the wall as Sam tilts Lucifer back until he is laying down and they both grab at it, Lucifer to stop himself from touching Sam more than he’s allowed, and Sam to hold onto as he quickens his pace until they both come undone. Sam groans as he cums in Lucifer, swears he can hear Lucifer say something in Enochian as he arches up beneath him.

    “I’m still coming with you,” Lucifer says when they are done, stretched out on the bed and staring up at Sam as he gets up, the heavy scent of sex hanging in the room. Sam ignores him to go shower instead. Sam does not have much to say to that, especially not when he had lost this fight the second it started.

 

* * *

 

     The Michigan Central Station has been abandoned for years. It looms over the outskirts of decaying Detroit and brings with it a sense of hopelessness and emptiness. Sam figures this is what the world will be like if the apocalypse happens. He doesn’t share his thoughts with Lucifer as they bypass the boarded up doors and climb in through the broken windows. The inside of the station is just as magnificent as the outside, huge and towering. Sam stares in awe at the tall arched ceiling and crumbling columns. This place used to be beautiful. Their footsteps echo as they wander through the building, looking for any signs of the Valkyrie. Lucifer stops abruptly and Sam walks into him because he is too busy looking around. “Lucifer what,” before Sam can finish his question, he is being pushed back so hard he falls. The sound of glass shattering fills the previously silent station and Sam can see the Valkyrie crashing through the windows. There are seven of them, circling near the ceiling now and shrieking, sending black feathers cascading down onto Lucifer and Sam. For the first time Sam thinks that maybe it wasn’t a mistake to let Lucifer come. Sam doesn’t know how he can fight creatures that soar above him and Lucifer can actually fly. Sam jolts as a voice suddenly fills his head.

     “Why do you come to our lair?” Sam immediately turns to Lucifer to see if he heard it also. Lucifer stands there looking smug.

     “Hate to break it to you but Sam here wants you dead, and his wish is my command,” Lucifer says out loud, smirking slightly as he glances over to Sam. The voice starts to say something again but Lucifer touches Sam’s forehead and it disappears. “Don’t listen to them Sam,” he warns. There’s a moment where nothing happens and it feels like any other stand-off but then two of the Valkyries are swooping down straight for them.

     Sam doesn’t know how he does it but one second Lucifer is standing in front of him and the next he has one of the Valkyries that was up in the air down on the ground beneath him. The second Valkyrie that was headed for Sam gets launched across the room by some invisible force as Lucifer flicks a hand in its direction. Sam stares wide eyed as the monster beneath Lucifer claws at him. Sam can see the blood seeping through Lucifer’s clothes as the Valkyrie kicks at him with its talons. Lucifer grabs one of its wings with both hands and without hesitation snaps the humerus in two. A piercing wail comes out of the creature’s mouth and Lucifer gets thrown off. Sam does not see him land, doesn’t see him at all.

     Someone touches his shoulder. “I might need to ask for a favor,” Lucifer says, ignoring the gun that Sam has pressed against his torso.

    “For fuck sake! I could have shot you!” Sam exclaims as he lowers the weapon he has drawn by instinct.

    “Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been shot by a Winchester,” Lucifer jokes.

    Sam blinks and he is staring at a blank wall. He turns around to find Lucifer a few feet away, arms crossed, a Valkyrie suspended in the air before him. He lifts a finger to his mouth in thought as it thrashes about, then with a lazy flick of his wrist the Valkyrie is hurled into the cement before Lucifer waves it back into the air. It opens its horrific mouth and screeches, “What gives you the right?”

     Lucifer smiles coldly at that, gaze as icy as the air around him.

     “No-one gives us the right,” Lucifer's tone is sinister.

      Sam jumps as suddenly Lucifer pulls the monster to himself so fast that Sam doesn’t even get to process it before Lucifer is thrusting a hand through the things chest and ripping out its heart. There is a stunned silence as the Valkyrie turns to dust around him, leaving nothing but feathers and the blood dripping from Lucifer’s arm. "We take it," Lucifer finishes.

    The Valkyrie say something to Lucifer that Sam doesn’t understand but it clearly leaves Lucifer on edge.

    “Lucifer-”

    Sam tries to ask what they said but is struck speechless as two huge wings unfurl themselves from Lucifer’s back. Lucifer stretches them out and moves as if to protect Sam, blocking him off from the enemy with his wings. He looks over his shoulder at Sam, because of course, even during a fight he has to be cocky. “Like what you see, Sammy?”

    The wings are glorious, Sam has never seen anything like them. Sam had ignored Lucifer before when he reminded him that he was an archangel, not just the devil. Sam doesn’t think he will ever be able to forget now. If something so beautiful does not belong in heaven than Sam definitely has no chance. Sam stands there in shock as Lucifer rolls his shoulders and beats his wings once. He is off the ground and throwing himself into the Valkyrie still circling the ceiling before Sam can say a word. It’s terrifying actually, watching him fight. He is faster than the Valkyrie, appearing randomly behind them and forcing apart their coordinated attacks with his grace. But Sam still constantly feels like with one wrong move Lucifer can be torn in two. He does not get torn in two though, quite the opposite. Lucifer rips through two Valkyrie fairly easily, beating them down until all it takes is a snap of his fingers and they are ripped apart. When there are four left that is when Sam starts to see the hesitation in Lucifer’s movements. He stops using his powers to separate the Valkyries. One grabs his wing with its talons and another gets him by the throat. Sam gasps as the thing with glowing yellow eyes sinks its claws into Lucifer’s side. Lucifer struggles weakly and Sam knows that something is wrong. This shouldn’t be happening.

    Out of his periphery Sam sees a flash of black. It feels like he is being hit by a truck when it barrels into him. The column they hit crumbles around them and Sam feels his vision swim but even as the familiar pain of broken ribs registers he reaches for the knife in his belt. The monster lays dazed beside him. It probably got hit in the head by the falling cement. It is the Valkyrie with the broken wing so it cannot fly away as Sam lunges for its throat. The skin does not break as easily as Sam hoped and the Valkyrie regains consciousness and knocks the knife out of Sam’s hand before Sam can make the wound any deeper. _Oh shit, I’m screwed_ runs through Sam’s head before he feels a familiar chill behind him. Lucifer’s wrapping an arm around Sam’s mid-section and taking off.

     Lucifer doesn’t make the landing.

     They crash through a window somewhere on the upper floors of the station. Lucifer lets go of Sam as they hit the ground and Sam falls so hard he rolls until he hits the opposite wall. Lucifer smashes into a pillar, knocking it completely down, and that portion of the roof comes down with it. It hurts to breath but Sam somehow manages to ask Lucifer if he is alive. He gets a groan in return. Sam hears the sound of bricks being thrown aside, hears Lucifer drag himself out of the mess he has created. The dust settles as Lucifer walks towards him. A cold hand presses against his temple and Sam feels his ribs heal and the buzzing in his ears disappear. He sits up.

     Lucifer looks like he is literally falling apart. The skin is flaking off his face and neck, Sam has never seen anything like it. “What’s happening to you?” Sam whispers. Lucifer opens his mouth to talk but starts coughing instead. Sam reaches for him as Lucifer coughs into his hand, blood trickling between his fingers. When he finally stops he hold his hand out for Sam to see. Sam stares at the couple of teeth that have apparently just dislodged from Lucifer’s jaw.

    “This vessel is failing me. I told you, it can’t handle the amount of power I’m using. I’m going to burn right through it before this fight even ends,” Lucifer explains through labored breaths, “Sam, I need you to take my grace.”

     Sam recoils, “No, you are not using me as a vessel.”

    “Not all of it, I’m not going to possess you. I just need you to take a small part. I think if I heal myself and then give you a part to hold on to I might be able to avoid spontaneously combusting. I’ll take it back after, I promise.”

    Sam shakes his head. He can’t let Lucifer in, not when Sam knows how much Lucifer wants to bring the apocalypse.

    “Sam, I don’t fit in this vessel. I will burn through this flesh. You won’t survive that, hell, this whole city won’t survive it, and I don’t know how long I can stay on earth without a vessel.”

     “I’m sorry Lucifer I can’t,” Sam whispers, but he feels his resolve crumbling. A familiar wail comes from outside as the Valkyries fly past the windows.

     “Sam I’m not asking anything of you right now other than for you to help me save your life,” Lucifer pleads. Sam takes in the burns on Lucifer’s face, the sunken eyes, and blood trickling from his nose, and then he looks over Lucifer’s shoulder, over Lucifer’s wings, and sees the Valkyries circling, their monstrous screeches filling the sky. Sam doesn’t want to die, and as much as he hates to admit it now, he trusts Lucifer, trusts that this is not a trick.

     “Fine,” he concedes and Lucifer’s mouth is suddenly covering his own. Their lips slide together and their teeth clash, Sam tastes copper and realizes that Lucifer’s lip is bleeding, too frail to be involved in a kiss of this fervor. Sam’s eyelids flutter open as something pours out of Lucifer through the kiss. Sam sees a flash of blue before there’s a hand covering his eyes, and Lucifer is pushing against Sam’s lips. Panic rises in Sam as something foreign surges into him. Lucifer is still kissing him but Sam can’t feel it- something is freezing him from the inside out. He feels hollow and whole all at once and he is so scared of what he’s done, so scared that he let the devil trick him. But suddenly Lucifer is letting go and all of the frost goes with him.

     “Sam?” Lucifer looks concerned. His voice echoes inside Sam’s skull. Sam tries to focus on the blood smeared across his lips. The echoing stops.

     “I didn’t like that,” Sam says slowly because something feels different. Lucifer frowns.

     “I take offense to that. I did just give you a part of myself.”

    “Yeah, well if it didn’t feel like you gave me hypothermia maybe I would be of a different opinion.” Lucifer smiles slightly at that and something in Sam jolts and he is overcome with a sense of adoration.

     “What the hell was that?” Sam asks, clutching at his chest. Lucifer looks guilty.

     “You’ll have to forgive me Sam, but I gave you the portion of my grace that contains my feelings. Figured it would be better than giving you my memories, I don’t need you to witness centuries of imprisonment. Now sit tight.” Lucifer stands up, spreads his wing, and takes off, away from their hiding spot.

     And that is when Sam faints.

 

* * *

 

   They’re sprawled across one of Nick’s grey couches. Their legs are tangled and Nick is lying on Sam’s chest with his chin resting on his crossed arms. “I doubt someone like you has any,” Sam says offhandedly.

   Nick looks up at Sam offended, “I do.”

   Sam laughs, wrapping his arms around Nick’s waist and blurting out a cheeky, “Oh yeah? And what are yours?”

   “They’re skeletons in the closet for a reason Sam,” Nick points out.

   “I just told you mine!”

   “You just told me that you fucked some demon chick, became a blood junkie, and accidentally released the devil from his cage. I doubt I can compete with that,” Nick jokes but glances worriedly at Sam, “you know you didn’t have to tell me if you didn’t want to, I could tell it’s unpleasant for you to talk about.”

   Sam shrugs and runs his hands up Nick’s sides, “You’re easy to talk to and you don’t judge me, you’re probably the only person I can talk to openly about all this crap.”

   “What about Dean?”

   Sam makes a face at that and shakes his head, “he doesn’t like talking about anything.”

   “And you’re worried he won’t look at you the same anymore, yet you risk telling me?”

   “It’s different with you.”

   Nick hums and takes his bright blue eyes off Sam for a moment to look for the remote. Sam does not want him to move yet so he brings back his earlier question and tightens his grip on the man.

  “So you haven’t told me yours yet.”

   Nick looks back at him, smirk settling into place, “You’re so nosey.” There’s a twinkle in his eyes that shows his fondness for Sam and Sam’s heart flutters.

  “Well do I get to know or not? Or are your FBI stories too secret?” Sam teases.

   Nick chuckles along with him, “Who said anything about my skeleton’s being FBI related?”

   Sam raises his eyebrows. “It’s gotta be something to do with your job, what else could it be?”

   “You’d be surprised.” Nick bites his lip and stays quiet. Sam decides to prod more because he’s genuinely curious about what Nick could possibly be worried about telling him.

   “Do I get to know?”

   “Eventually,” Nick says.

   His eyes have lost the warmth they were holding, they are back to channeling the unapproachable apathy Nick took on around strangers, like he couldn't spare them the time of day. It's a look that Sam receives rarely. It's a look that Sam knows the meaning of, has picked up on a lot of Nick's mannerisms and their meanings already. Nick is detaching himself from the situation for some reason. A bit hesitant now, Sam bites his own lip and slowly, quietly asks Nick when. Nick looks away then, brows furrowed and lips pulled into a frown. Sam wants to give him time to answer but the room has suddenly dropped in temperature and Sam is tempted to ask to turn off the AC because it is so cold in the apartment. Nick is not exactly the warmest person in the world either and having him laying on top of Sam was like holding a huge ice pack. Nick cuts off Sam’s train of thought with the answer to Sam’s previous question. “Soon,” Nick says softly as if the weight of the world was on his shoulders, he makes eye contact with Sam again, something timeless and tired in the gaze.

   “Okay,” Sam mumbles while Nick shifts and starts pressing soft kisses to Sam’s neck, “okay.”

    Nick runs his tongue across Sam’s pulse and Sam lets out a long sigh. He is not going to linger on Nick’s answer. Sam is not going to let his usual paranoia ruin the one good thing he has, so he just won’t think about it. Nick will tell him when he is comfortable. _There’s nothing to be worried about. Just let yourself have this._ There is a hand running through his hair and Sam’s eyes are fluttering back open, “By the way, I think your AC turned on- it’s freezing in here.”

   “No, I don’t think so,” Nick grimaces.

   “You okay?”

   “Yeah, it’s nothing,” Nick replies taking in a deep breath, still looking like he’s in pain. But before Sam could question him again Nick is slowly biting down on Sam’s shoulder blade and mumbling, “I just can’t imagine what I would do without you.”

    Goosebumps erupt on Sam’s skin as Nick’s cold breath hits his skin. Nick tugs at Sam’s hair, as their lips meet and Nick’s tongue slips into his mouth Sam really can’t think about anything other than the solid body above him and how lucky he is to have met Nick.

 

* * *

 

   When Sam wakes up it takes him a couple minutes to process what is going on.

   The memory from the dream is from the earlier days of their relationship and it burns in the back of his mind now. He cries out as something throbs in his chest.

   He is still in the train station, same place where Lucifer left him. Sam reaches a hand to rub at his eyes and realizes that he is crying. Grief and longing well up inside him and Sam shudders as he comprehends that the emotions aren’t his. It is Lucifer’s grace reacting to Sam’s memory and god, Sam really did not need to know that Lucifer shares his heartbreak. He feels winded from the emotions and broken up over how much Lucifer actually cares for him. The devil actually loves him and Sam is quickly losing sight of the big picture and focusing solely on how true Lucifer’s words ring. They are made for each other. Sam pulls at his shirt collar as his heart thuds against his ribcage. A rustle of feathers and there is a hand being soothed down his back.

   “Calm down,” Lucifer whispers as he gently runs his fingers along Sam’s spine.

   “Lucifer!” Sam grabs at the blonde and pulls him in until their lips meet. Lucifer’s grace thrums with surprise in Sam but then steadies into a calm as they keep kissing.

   “What did I do to deserve that?” Lucifer lilts, eyes sparkling even though they are still sunken in.

   Sam doesn’t answer the question, doesn’t think he has an answer. “You didn’t heal yourself?”

  “I healed the insides,” Lucifer shrugs.

  “Are they dead?”

   Lucifer nods and Sam sags in relief, slowly pushing off him. Lucifer catches him by the waist. “I’m taking back what is mine,” he whispers before kissing Sam again.

   It feels like something is being ripped from him without his permission. Sam is sure that he should want this, should want any part of Lucifer as far away from himself as possible but instead he doesn’t. Like with everything else about Lucifer so far Sam finds that he wants exactly the opposite of what would be considered the right thing to do by other people. His brother would hate him if he knew that Sam feels like he is losing a part of himself when really it’s just Lucifer taking back his own grace.

   “Sam, don't cry.”

   Sam feels a tear fall down his cheek. Why is he crying? He stumbles back, shocked at how hollow he suddenly feels. Slowly Lucifer nods in understanding.

   “You’ve always felt this way Sam. I’m sorry that I have made the pain more obvious.”

   Sam glares at Lucifer and swears. Why did the devil have to the one to make him feel whole? Make him feel understood? Why did Lucifer make him feel more at home than his family ever did?

   “All those times you ran away, you weren’t running from them Sam. You were running towards me,” Lucifer whispers. “I want you to be happy.”

   “I can’t fucking do this,” Sam shakes as he feels himself slipping into the devil's hands. He can’t kill Lucifer for a fact. He would not be able to lock him away in his cage even if he could, not after this. What’s left? The one being that makes him feel whole is standing right in front of him but it’s suddenly not enough. “The apocalypse won’t make me happy,” Sam says.

  “But being with me will,” Lucifer argues back.

   And what can Sam say to that?

   He is so tired of this back and forth. He just wants what they had back, but there is no going back.

    Sam covers his face with a hand as he heaves in breath after breath as he tries to keep from sobbing. He can see where this is going from a mile away. They are approaching the finale and Sam can’t make this choice. Lucifer’s fingers card through his hair as he pulls Sam’s hand away. Blue eyes meet hazel ones and Sam knows that they are both burned out from this. “What do we do from here?” Sam begs. He can’t make the choice to have this fade, he can’t be alone. But Lucifer wants a revelation that Sam doesn’t want to give him, doesn’t even want to think about. Lucifer looks away, weary eyes holding no light because there are no other options other than the obvious one. He can’t give Sam a way around it. Sam knows that it would be too much to ask him to reconsider. Lucifer has waited for years to bring a sense of right to the injustice he feels he faced. It is so ingrained in him, Sam can’t take it away. Nothing can change Lucifer now.

    Lucifer is terrifying and cold, a storm of a being looking to wreak havoc on heaven and earth but he is also so much more than that. Sam is sharply aware now that he can’t live without him.

    Sam wonders how many times his heart can break before it stops beating. He grabs Lucifer by his jacket lapels. “Look at me, Lucifer.”

   “Sam you don’t want this...”

   “Lucifer I don’t know what to do from here! I am probably the worst person on this goddamned earth at making the right decisions, but I want you to tell me what am I supposed to do now?” Sam rambles, shaking Lucifer a bit.

   Lucifer brushes away a tear on Sam’s cheek. “Sam…”

   He looks so unsure and something about that makes Sam certain that somehow this will work out.

   “What do you want me to say? That I’m in love with you? You already know that,” Sam pleads, surprised how easy the words slip from his mouth.

   Lucifer watches him curiously, something shifting in his eyes, as if those words are some type of cue.

   It takes him a minute but then he is moving to press a chaste kiss against Sam’s neck and leaning up to whisper in his ear, voice as enticing as the day they first met.

   "Say yes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. When I was writing this I thought I was being all cool and unique by making the hunt about a leshy, you know I'm Russian so I thought it would be fun to bring one of my childhood stories to life. So you have no idea how indignant I felt when I found out that spn already did an episode about one. How was I supposed to remember that? The leshy looked like PARIS HILTON. THAT'S JUST NOT WHAT I THINK ABOUT WHEN I THINK LESHY OKAY. So I'm still shook but that's ok.  
> 2\. I went to see an autopsy done for this fic i kid you not  
> 3\. The scene with Lucifer shirtless exists entirely because of this gif set: http://lucifer-in-leather.tumblr.com/post/158776030989  
> 4\. If you follow Sam along when he is doing the Wiki search you will get the same result because I felt like throwing in something fun like that.  
> 5\. Lucifer is referencing this (http://bible-equip.org/emed-daily/2012/07/18/know-thy-enemy-ephesians-611-12/) when he says "Know thy enemy"  
> 6\. When Sam says that Nick makes up stories in the very beginning that is totally just Lucifer telling Sam shit about how the world was created and stuff, but Sam doesn't believe him, obviously  
> 7\. The Valkyrie monster is from the movie Max Payne. Horrible movie, great effects. Google an image of the Valkyrie form it. It's pretty cool.  
> 8\. Second half of the fic contains a lot of canon line from the show and song references. All credit goes to original lyric/script writers.
> 
> Well it's over and I hope you enjoyed that little cliff hanger. Feel free to decide yourself what happens next! Will the world end? Who knows! Also it would mean the world to me if you left a comment about what you thought about my fic! Any favorite lines or scenes? I would love feedback!!

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. When I was writing this I thought I was being all cool and unique by making the hunt about a leshy, you know I'm Russian so I thought it would be fun to bring one of my childhood stories to life. So you have no idea how indignant I felt when I found out that spn already did an episode about one. How was I supposed to remember that? The leshy looked like PARIS HILTON. THAT'S JUST NOT WHAT I THINK ABOUT WHEN I THINK LESHY OKAY. So I'm still shook but that's ok.  
> 2\. I went to see an autopsy done for this fic i kid you not  
> 3\. The scene with Lucifer shirtless exists entirely because of this gif set: http://lucifer-in-leather.tumblr.com/post/158776030989  
> 4\. If you follow Sam along when he is doing the Wiki search you will get the same result because I felt like throwing in something fun like that.  
> 5\. Lucifer is referencing this (http://bible-equip.org/emed-daily/2012/07/18/know-thy-enemy-ephesians-611-12/) when he says "Know thy enemy"  
> 6\. When Sam says that Nick makes up stories in the very beginning that is totally just Lucifer telling Sam shit about how the world was created and stuff, but Sam doesn't believe him, obviously  
> 7\. The Valkyrie monster is from the movie Max Payne. Horrible movie, great effects. Google an image of the Valkyrie form it. It's pretty cool.  
> 8\. Second half of the fic contains a lot of canon line from the show and song references. All credit goes to original lyric/script writers.
> 
> Well it's over and I hope you enjoyed that little cliff hanger. Feel free to decide yourself what happens next! Will the world end? Who knows! Also it would mean the world to me if you left a comment about what you thought about my fic! Any favorite lines or scenes? I would love feedback!!


End file.
